Empire of the Sun
by Sophia Prester
Summary: A re-opened police investigation causes the Senshi to question everything they knew about their past-and their future.
1. Convergence

Author's notes: The content is based on the manga, but I do borrow elements from the anime, especially from the first season (mostly for the characterizations and fates of the four generals). Other notes are at the end. The story takes place approximately one year after the battle with Galaxia and Chaos.

March 2009: Re-posted chapter to fix formatting and some errors that made me cringe. No changes have been made that affect the plot.

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and all associated characters are the property of Naoko Takeuchi and Kodansha, Ltd. A few characters and situations from Homicide: Life on the Streets are courtesy of Tom Fontana, Barry Levinson, and Baltimore Pictures.

* * *

**Prologue: From Ever After to Ever After**

**Sometime in the future**

A toast!

First, let me say that I am thankful to be here at all, right now. And I... I... damn, I promised myself I wasn't going to lose it like this... just give me a second, okay?

Anyway, I am thankful to be here, and I am thankful to be here with you. _All_ of you, because I'd like to think that the ones who aren't with us now... that they're... they...

Thanks, Mako-chan. I'll be okay, honest.

Well, it's been a rough ride, but it's been worth it, and I wanted to remind us all of some of the things that brought us here together, today. And no, I'm not going to start quoting "The Princess Bride," unlike some others I could name...

You know, it is _frightening_ how well you do that "wuv, _twu_ wuv" bit! Now are you jokers going to let me get on with my toast before I forget what it was I was going to say?

Someone once said that to tell a story, you should begin at the beginning, keep going through the middle, and end at the end. Well, if I was going to start at the real beginning, we'd be sitting here until morning, and I think the lovely bride-to-be here... and you _know_ you're lovely, so stop it... might have some objections to that.

Ah, hell. I've had too much to drink, so I'll cut this short before I get myself in any more trouble. There are hundreds of stories we could tell about how we have found each other, lost each other, and found each other again throughout the years. I think, though, that when we look back we'll always think about the past year, and that summer when everything finally started to come together. Despite everything that's happened and is still happening, I like to think of today as the happy ending we've all been waiting for. And with that, I say...

To our next beginning!

* * *

Later that evening, the best man asked Kino Makoto for her opinion on the way he had ended his toast. In her estimation, when had everything changed?

Makoto looked up at the stars and thought about it for a while. The paper lanterns that had been strung up around the clearing swayed in the mild breeze, flickering in counterpoint to the stars above. She heard the sharp clack of wood on wood, some rather inventive swearing, then the sound of someone pawing through the underbrush.

"I think that's number five," the best man said. The croquet match had quickly devolved into a game of knock-Haruka's-ball-into-the-woods. "So, Mako-chan, when do you think everything really started to change?"

"I'm thinking! It's not the easiest question in the world."

There was the day that she first ran up against Zoisite, and first knew that things in this world were stranger than she had ever dreamed. Then, just a short time later, the sleeping Senshi within her was awakened, and that knowledge was confirmed and forever carved in stone.

But no, that was when her _own_ life had changed. She thought a little while longer, but her thoughts were interrupted by a puppy's shrill _yark-yark-yark_. This was quickly followed by Usagi's bellow of outrage over something. Stolen food, no doubt.

She giggled. Some things would _never_ change.

Finally, she was about to say something along the lines of "when we first learned about Crystal Tokyo," when the bride and groom's first dance started. She gasped in delight at the song that was chosen--it was not one she had ever expected.

"That's it!" she cried out. "That's when it all started!"

For just a measure or two, she swayed to the music, memories of another time returning as if they had been perfectly preserved for just that moment.

"When, Mako-chan?"

"Usagi's party." She shook her head, thinking about how long ago it seemed, but how frighteningly recent it really was. Her world was such a different place now. "Well, right around then, anyhow. If I'd known what to look for, I might've seen it--I mean, if I were Ami or something. If we'd been paying attention..."

Then they might have stopped things from happening. They would have made different choices. She thought about Michiru, and Setsuna, and Hotaru, and Mamoru, and most of all, herself. What would we be doing now? she wondered. How would things be different?

"Are you all right?" Warm arms circled her from behind.

Makoto's voice shook. "They'll be expecting us on the dance floor," she said.

"That's a no, I suppose. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stirred things up."

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled warmly. "I'm fine, really. I guess I just started thinking about the might-have-beens."

He sighed. "You know what I told you about that..."

Makoto laughed. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, she thought. She wriggled to get him to loosen his arms, then turned so she was facing him.

"There's no point in worrying about what might have happened--or what won't ever happen, hon," she said, mimicking his words and accent just a little too well. "Maybe I was wrong to say that it all began on Usagi's eighteenth birthday."

She backed up, leading him towards the dance floor. His arms were still around her, as if they were already dancing. She rested one hand on his shoulder, savoring the warmth she could feel through his jacket. "I remember that day so clearly," she continued. "It was such a wonderful, wonderful day."

He swept her into the dance, and she followed his lead.

"Maybe I should say that it was the day when things finally started to come to an end."

* * *

**Chapter One: Convergence**

**Tokyo, Japan**

**Friday, June 29**

**4:45 p.m.**

"I see trees of green, red roses too…"

Makoto half hummed, half sang along with Louis Armstrong's smoke-and-whiskey vocals. The rapid chopping of her knife flowed into the slow beat of the melody. Once the celery and carrots were diced, she checked the onions, which had already been cooking for a few minutes. Perfect. A flick of the knife transferred the celery and carrot into the cast iron pot. She gave the mixture a stir to distribute the oil, then leaned against the counter to rest and listen to the music and the comforting sizzle of the oil.

"They're really saying, 'I love you.'"

She wanted to take this day and put it up in an old-fashioned canning jar. Her balcony window stood wide open, letting the late afternoon sunlight stream into the apartment along with a warm, lazy breeze. She wiped the condensation from her glass of iced tea and took a deep drink. Everything--the dust motes swirling lazily in the sunbeams, the gentle touch of the warm summer air on her skin, the sweet smell of cooking onions, the music, even the constant noise of the city outside--cradled her in contentment and peace. When winter came and the days were short, the planters on her balcony empty and covered with plastic tarps, and her nights filled with anxious cramming for exams, she could go to her pantry, take this day down from its shelf, wipe away the dust, and take a long, long drink.

She filled a second glass with some more iced tea and wandered out into the living room. "Sorry to ignore you like this, ChibiUsa-chan, but I have to get the sauce started if we want to have dinner at a decent time tonight."

ChibiUsa was bent over one of Makoto's plants and inhaling deeply. Her eyes were closed and her lips were set in a serene smile. Standing there among the greenery, she reminded Makoto of a delicate yet sprawling rambling rose. The once-little girl had grown since her last visit, now probably standing as tall as Usagi's shoulder, maybe even a little taller. Her face still had its baby roundness, but her body now had the coltish and awkward slenderness of someone on the edge of her teens.

"That's okay, Mako-chan," she said. She took another sniff. "What's this one? It smells wonderful!"

Makoto handed ChibiUsa the iced tea, then knelt down by the wooden stepladder she had converted into a rack for her potted herbs. She relished any chance to brag about her babies. "This is English lavender. I dry the leaves and flowers out on my balcony and make little sachets that you can put in your closet or your dresser drawer. I can give you some to take back to the thirtieth century with you, if you like."

"Mmm. That would be nice." ChibiUsa straightened up. The soft smile faded away. "I don't even know if we have lavender in the thirtieth century."

"Then you'll have to give some to your mom, too," Makoto said after a moment. She tried not to read too much into ChibiUsa's statement, but she had to admit that it bothered her. She knew far too little about Crystal Tokyo and the future that she and the other Sailor Senshi would have a thousand years in the future. She'd seen Crystal Tokyo for herself. The name alone made her think of smooth, bare walls, of still air, of untraceable echoes, of empty streets. She did not think of a place where dust motes danced in the light, where the smell of her cooking filled the air, or where she would feel comfortable singing along to her Louis Armstrong tape.

At least once a week, Makoto sternly reminded herself that she had not seen Crystal Tokyo at its best. After all, it had been devastated by the Black Moon clan and their poison crystals. Surely that was the only reason it seemed so... sterile.

But for ChibiUsa not to recognize the scent of lavender? That couldn't be right. Well, they probably preferred roses at the palace, she reasoned. Maybe she just wasn't familiar enough with the scent to recognize it. That must be it.

Even so, Makoto vowed to check her inventory of seeds, just in case. Paradise would not be paradise without the scent of lavender and nicotiana and lemon verbena, the sense of a job well done from pruning and staking a recalcitrant rose bush, not to mention the taste of fresh basil and juicy Roma tomatoes, still warm from the sun... the sauce!

She dashed into the kitchen, stirred the vegetables (perfectly tender, with the carrots adding just the right amount of sweetness), and poured in the chopped tomatoes (some from the market, some from the container garden on her balcony) and, of course, herbs from the stepladder garden. Disaster averted, she decided to pry loose some more information about her future. There had to be something about this pre-ordained future that she could look forward to. "Maybe you could bring a lavender sachet to my future self. Just by way of saying 'hello,' or something..."

"Well, I don't see you guys all that much, but I'll try..." ChibiUsa appeared to be studying the carpet.

"I guess we're really busy guarding your mom, huh?"

"Yeah." ChibiUsa's dark red eyes glimmered. She wasn't crying, was she? Makoto started to apologize for bringing up the subject, but ChibiUsa shrugged and blinked her eyes clear. She even smiled, just a little. "Mama says I still need some training, but she's letting me do some Senshi stuff, especially now that Ceres and the others are awake. Just a little, though. Sometimes." The smile died back down.

"Hey, that's great! Before you know it, you'll be fighting right alongside us!"

She should have been already, Makoto thought, trying not to scowl. The little girl was just as brave a soldier as any of the rest of them! But then, Makoto could see perfectly well why Usagi... why Serenity wouldn't want to put her only daughter in jeopardy.

"Maybe you can get some more training while you're here. You know, I can blast open a steel door with a Supreme Thunder Dragon, but if I used that against a human..." Makoto shuddered, but it was only for effect. There were certain deserving individuals she sometimes wished she could treat to a short, sharp, shock. "There's other things you'll need to learn besides how to use your Senshi abilities. How about I teach you a few basic martial arts moves?"

"Could you?" ChibiUsa's real smile came flooding back. This time, it even reached her eyes.

"Of course! How long are you staying in our century this time?"

ChibiUsa shrugged, and went back to studying the carpet. "Mama said I could stay as long as I wanted, as long as I kept up my training and went to school."

ChibiUsa couldn't be homesick after just one day, could she? Makoto decided her curiosity about Crystal Tokyo could wait for a while. "You know what would be fun? We should have a slumber party while you're here--just the two of us. We can rent the kind of scary movies that Usagi won't watch with you. You know, _Ringu_, that kind of stuff. I had a lot of fun last night."

Once again, that wonderful smile lit up ChibiUsa's face. She gave Makoto a big hug, heedless of the tomato-and-oil-stained apron.

"Me too, Mako-chan."

ChibiUsa had come back to the twenty-first century last night, and had headed straight for Makoto's apartment as planned. It was only the second time she'd been back to their time since they defeated Galaxia and Chaos.

Shortly after the Senshi got back to their own time and place, and were still trying to account for absences that ranged anywhere from several weeks to a few days ("My apologies, sensei. I was unexpectedly attacked by an agent of Chaos and reduced to a lifeless pile of dust. Here's a note from my doctor.") ChibiUsa came rushing back to the year 2000. Makoto still got a lump in her throat when she thought of ChibiUsa's reunion with Diana, Luna, and Artemis. Until then, Makoto had not even known that the cats had been among the fallen as well.

What would it be like, to come home one day, and find that against all reason, her parents were there? Would she run to them and throw herself into their arms? Or would she, like ChibiUsa, just collapse and start sobbing and laughing all at the same time?

"I'm so glad you had the idea about this surprise party, ChibiUsa-chan," said Makoto. Her voice felt a little rough for a moment. "I bet it was pretty hard, waiting almost a year for this. I can't believe it's only been that long since we've seen you. It seems longer, somehow."

If Makoto were in ChibiUsa's shoes, she would have just turned around, popped right back through the Gates of Time, and showed up in Tokyo on the proper date. Makoto shook her head. Better not to think that way. It was much easier on the brain if she thought of thirtieth century Crystal Tokyo as being somewhere else instead of some_when_ else. For some reason, Makoto couldn't help thinking of it being somewhere in Antarctica. She'd probably gotten the idea from Superman's Fortress of Solitude.

"Tell you what," she said. "Once Usagi-chan has had a chance to have you all to herself for a while, we'll set a date, and you can come and camp out over here. In the meantime, I'll dry some of this lavender, and when you come over, we can go to the fabric store and you can pick out some fabric and lace and you can make sachets for Usagi _and_ your mom."

"You want to know something funny?"

"Hmm?"

"Mama sent Usagi a birthday present."

Makoto stood and blinked as she tried to wrap her brain around

_that_ one.

"Well," she finally said, "at least she can be sure it'll be something Usagi will like."

ChibiUsa flopped down on the wicker couch.

"When's Usagi going to be here, anyway?"

"Mamoru said he would bring her by between seven fifteen and seven thirty, so you need to make sure that you and Diana are in the bedroom. Where is Diana, by the way?"

ChibiUsa jerked her head towards the balcony door. At first, Makoto could not see the kitten. It wasn't until ChibiUsa told her where to look that Makoto could just see the tip of a gray tail sticking out from under a plant stand. The tail-tip twitched sharply from time to time. "She's hunting beetles," explained ChibiUsa.

"Oh. That's... nice." She a mental flash of Diana in human form, chomping down on a juicy, squirming bug. Add another inconceivable notion to the list. The Moon Cats had been easier for her to deal with when she only knew of their feline forms. And what did Minako think about all this? Artemis had always slept at the foot of her bed, and his human form *was* pretty cute...

Oh, boyohboyohboy. She really wished she hadn't thought that.

"Only another two and a half hours! I can't wait to see Mama's--Usagi's--face!" ChibiUsa stopped bouncing and stared at Makoto. "Mako-chan? Why are you blushing?"

"Uh... just thinking about what Usagi's face will look like when we surprise her!"

The doorbell rang just then, and Makoto gave silent thanks for the chronically punctual.

Mamoru had come to the rescue just in time as always, but this time with a bag full of 'party supplies.' He greeted Makoto with a one-armed hug as he transferred the paper shopping bag into her hands.

"Mako-chan! It smells wonderful in here, as always."

Makoto blushed again, this time with pride. It was also nice to get the hug. Living alone as she did, close human contact was a rare treat. "We'll have plenty of leftovers, so I'll be sure to pack some of them up for Mr. Starving Med Student."

She didn't have time to say anything else as ChibiUsa caught her beloved Mamo-chan in a death grip. That gave her the opportunity to hide the shopping bag in the pantry along with the other presents. The "party supplies" were the remainder of the presents the other girls had bought for ChibiUsa. So far, it looked like the little girl hadn't twigged to the fact that this party was for her as well.

Mamoru went to lift his future daughter for a hug the way he usually did, but stopped short. "You've grown!" He hugged her then stood back to get a good look. He smiled broadly, but Makoto could see just a little sadness in his eyes. "I don't think we can do the piggy-back rides any more."

"That's all right," said ChibiUsa, although she did sound a little disappointed. "I'm just glad I'm finally growing!"

"Wait until you see Hotaru," Makoto said dryly to ChibiUsa. She turned her attention back to her guest. "Would you like some iced tea, Mamoru-kun?"

"Please. Starving Med Student is also Sleepy Med Student" He went over to the couch. ChibiUsa followed and sat down beside him. "Hotaru's nearly as tall as Ami and Usa-ko, now."

"What is it with the Outer Senshi and being tall?" Makoto called from the kitchen.

"Says the pot to the kettle," Mamoru muttered.

"You want to wear this iced tea?" she warned as she came back into the living room. "It's amazing," she continued. "She's only in eighth grade, and she's already quite the little heartbreaker. Unlike some of us, she's got practically every boy in the school--including some of the seniors--trying to get her to go on a date with them."

ChibiUsa sighed, then giggled. "I wonder what Haruka thinks about that."

Makoto and Mamoru exchanged a look. Makoto had to bite her lips together to keep from laughing. The kid was a lot sharper than she looked.

"What?" demanded ChibiUsa.

"Well," drawled Makoto. "As you can imagine, Hotaru's 'Haruka-papa' is a tad overprotective, and she's not thrilled that all of these boys are chasing after her precious little Hotaru, and she's not exactly nice to the ones who call Hotaru at home. One night, she really put the Fear of Haruka into this one boy..."

"This one boy that Hotaru had been hoping beyond hope would call her," continued Mamoru. "Things were a little rough for a while, but they're okay now."

Makoto wished he didn't sound so glib about it. He hadn't been the one to roll out a spare futon for the girl until Michiru and Usagi were finally able to convince Hotaru and her 'papa' to see reason and make amends. Makoto suspected that Michiru had exiled Haruka to the couch for most if not all of those nights.

"By the way, you might want to wait to talk to Hotaru about boys and stuff until Haruka's well out of earshot. Haruka's discovered that she _likes_ setting curfews."

In a way, Makoto couldn't blame her. For the few nights that she'd had Hotaru as a roommate, she'd noticed that the younger girl had developed a willful streak, almost as if she _wanted_ someone to swat her. It didn't help that she was nearly as smart as Ami. Makoto did some quick calculation. Hotaru was fourteen, while Haruka and Michiru had both turned twenty this past winter. That wasn't much of an age difference. Makoto was desperately afraid that the little patchwork family was heading towards a nasty implosion. If only there was some way they could have kept Hotaru at twelve for just a few more years.

Mamoru began to stand as if to leave, but ChibiUsa whimpered and pulled on his sleeve. "Hey, you're a girl, not a puppy," he chided. Then, he sighed dramatically. "I guess I can stay for a little while longer. Is that okay with you, Mako-chan?"

"Sure. Do you want me to put together a little something to eat?"

"Please!" Everyone, including Mamoru, laughed at the desperation in his voice. "Money's not tight, or anything," he reassured a worried Makoto. "I'm not starving because I can't afford food. It's just that now I'm on clinical rotations I'm lucky if I have the time and energy to manage anything more complicated than instant ramen."

Probably made with hot water straight from the tap, thought Makoto. She didn't even want to think about what he ate when he had to stay overnight at the hospital. She would have to have another word with Usagi and with Ikuko-san about getting Mamoru over to the Tsukino household for dinner more often. Not for the first time, she thought it was a shame that Kenji-san had insisted that Usagi could not get married until she had both graduated high school _and_ successfully completed at least one semester of college.

When she'd heard the mandate, Usagi tearfully demanded if he intended for her to wait until she was ninety before she was able to marry Mamo-chan.

Makoto hummed to herself as she took some pickles, cold chicken, rice balls, and other assorted leftovers and assembled them into a sizeable, simple meal. The sound of ChibiUsa telling Mamoru about all the things she wanted to do while she was here was sweeter than any music.

I have a family now, she sang to herself. I finally have a family.

She and Mamoru were orphans with no other family. ChibiUsa's family was a thousand years away and seemed to be distant in some other ways as well. Rei might as well have been an orphan for all the notice her father paid her. At least she had her grandfather, although his health was steadily declining. Ami's mother seemed nice enough, but always so busy, busy, busy. But thanks to her, they had a place to come that had soft places to sit, that had good food, that was free from the sense of loneliness and the smell of sickness.

Makoto peered out of the kitchen to where father and daughter talked and laughed and teased. Yes, this was a safe, happy place.

Of course, Usagi and Minako each had a full set of parents, and Usagi even had a little brother. You'd think they should be happy, but somehow, it never seemed quite right. How many times had Minako shown up at school with her eyes red and puffy, and the tendons in her jaw about to pop? Just another fight with her mother, she'd say. Same old, same old. That's just the way the old lady is. Hag. Bag. Bat. Battle-axe. Bitch. Witch. Vole.

"I wish I could fight with _my_ mother," Makoto would retort, but only in the quiet of her mind. Out loud, she would merely point out to Minako that the proper word was "shrew," and not "vole."

Minako would then stick her tongue out at Makoto, and everything would return to normal for a while.

For a long time, it seemed that everything was perfect for Usagi and her family, but one night, a few months ago, Usagi showed up on her doorstep out of the blue, tears streaming down her face. Makoto was hit by a numbing fear that something had happened between Usagi and Mamoru. For a long time Makoto could only sit on the floor, confused and on the verge of panic, holding a hysterically sobbing Usagi and rocking her back and forth while rubbing her back and telling her over and over that it was all right, that everything would be all right.

Once Usagi had cried herself dry, and could speak through the hiccups that always followed one of her crying jags, she said she had started to think about how much she wanted to be able to talk to her mother about everything, to tell her how desperately scared she was about this future, this destiny, about how much was resting on her shoulders, how afraid she was of the day when she would have to face Chaos again, and how she would be all, all alone. All she wanted was for her mother to be able hold her, understand her, and tell her that everything was going to be all right. And it hurt, oh God how it hurt, that she couldn't talk to her mother, and who was going to be there for her when it was just her and Chaos...

And the only thing that Makoto could think of was what it would be like to have someone larger than you and your fears, someone who smelled of soap and cinnamon, someone who could wrap soft arms around you and tell you that everything was all right, that everything was going to be all right. For nearly an hour, she sat there with her friend in her arms, and all she could do was hush and hum as she helplessly waited for Usagi to stop sobbing.

Makoto started to ask why Usagi didn't think she could tell Ikuko-san about Sailor Moon and all the rest of it when this thought stopped her cold: Just which mother did Usagi mean?

Makoto's stomach did a tiny flip-flop as she realized that in a certain sense, Ikuko-san _wasn't_ Usagi's mother.

"I want my mommy!" Usagi wailed at just that moment, and it would have been funny if it hadn't been so heartbreaking.

Usagi later apologized to Makoto. All of the stress of senior year must have gotten to her, for her to break down like that, she said. She shouldn't have been complaining like that when Makoto didn't even have a mother. This was accompanied by the nervous smile and giggle that always seemed to break through Makoto's defenses.

"Don't be ridiculous. We have each other," Makoto said, shaking Usagi's shoulders gently. "Each one of us. We all have one another. We will always have one another."

She believed it with all her heart, and she hoped that Usagi did, too.

With those thoughts settling back to rest, she brought Mamoru his dinner, and refilled his glass of tea. ChibiUsa ran to pick up the pot of lavender and she demanded that Mamo-chan smell how pretty it was, and didn't he think Usagi would like one?

Makoto's heart sang within her, love rising in a sweet arabesque. She loved ChibiUsa, but not quite as a daughter. That was Usagi's prerogative. Maybe I can be an aunt, she thought. She liked the sound of that. Mako-obachan. That would make Mamoru, what, her big brother? Mamo-niichan. She could get used to that. Oh, yes. She could very easily get used to that.

"What are you smiling about, Mako-chan?" asked Mamoru.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm just glad to see you eating a decent meal for a change. If you ever feel the need for a home-cooked meal, just call, okay? I don't want you getting sick."

"Yes, mother."

"Oh, you!" she laughed, throwing her dishtowel at his head.

If only she could capture today in a bottle...

* * *

**7:10 p.m.**

On a whim, Seidou Taiyouko had decided to take the long way home from work. In other words, instead of taking the ten-minute bus ride back to her apartment, she walked fifteen minutes to the garage where she stored her clunker, then drove until she was miles outside of the Tokyo city limits. She headed southwest along the coast of the Boso Peninsula, taking the highway as far as Kisarazu, then crossing over to the east coast and taking a sea-side route back towards Tokyo proper.

She drove along an old scenic route that wound along the jagged cliffs above the sea. Its curves and jinks were treacherous, especially since any warning signs had been kept artfully subtle and discreet, so as not to interfere with the dramatic views afforded by these curves. An inattentive tourist stood a real danger of getting a lot closer to nature than he intended.

Taiyouko liked to drive this stretch of road shortly after sunrise, when the sunlight would hit most of the cliffs full on, and turn the breakers into sprays of diamond. In the dying light, the scene took on a subtler beauty, with the hard edges of the cliffs made soft and indistinct. The breakers were now curls of gray mist surging up from a sea clouded by shadow. She liked it, but she preferred the scene as it was in brash, sharp sunlight. This was a smaller, gentler world than that. It was... pleasant, but it didn't stir the soul. It reminded her of ink-wash paintings and of England.

England. That reminded her--she owed Barbara a call, or at least an e-mail. Taiyouko's thoughts wandered from there to whether London was later or earlier than Tokyo, when a sudden movement in her rearview mirror caught her attention. A silver-blue sports car roared up behind her, slowing just short of her bumper.

Well, well. Someone's in a hurry, thought Taiyouko. The road turned up a steep incline. And isn't it just too bad that my poor old crate can't accelerate uphill, Mr. I've-got-a-hot-car.

Taiyouko checked the rear-view mirror. The sports car--which looked more like a jet than a car--was right on her tail, so close she couldn't see its headlights in her mirror. The driver was a young man, ash-blond, one of those androgynous pretty-boys the teeny-boppers were always sighing over. He looked familiar. One of those no-talent idol singers, maybe? Hell, that would explain why the son-of-a-bitch was driving a car that would cost her more than a year's salary.

As she crested the hill, she tapped on the brakes, just to see what would happen. She grinned. Even in the rear-view mirror, she could practically see the veins in his forehead about to explode. She checked the map. The turnoff for the scenic overlook was about a kilometer ahead.

Might as well put on the turn signal now, she thought. Just to be safe, of course. She cast another glance in the mirror and chuckled softly.

The sports car dropped back a bit, then swung out to the right in order to pass her, heedless of the possibility of oncoming traffic and the sharp curve up ahead. It was a nasty one, with nothing but several stories of empty air on the other side of the guard rail. The empty air wasn't the bad part. The bad part was the big pile of rocks at the bottom that brought the empty air to an emphatic end.

Taiyouko held her breath as the silver-blue car negotiated the turn at high speed without even a hint of squealing tires. "Professional. Stupid, but professional."

Other drivers were less skilled. She saw trails of skid marks leading up to the curve, and a rainbow of paint streaks on the guard rail that ran the spectrum from Fiat red to BMW blue.

She put the sports car out of her mind as she looked for the signs announcing the "scenic overlook." The last time she had been out here, it was night, and someone had been waiting with a flare to mark the turn-off. The lights and sirens of the police cars and emergency vehicles had also made it hard to miss. This time, the lot was empty except for a single car. Presumably it belonged to the young couple necking on a bench by the cliff's edge.

She got out the car, taking a large manila envelope with her. It was one of the ones that was fastened by means of a red string looped around two circles of red cardboard. She had been hit by a wave of nostalgia when her superior officer handed it to her. These days, her case files were sealed with metal clips that were always breaking off, and with growing frequency, an annoying bit of re-useable stickum that stuckum to nothing but lint.

The wind whipped at her light-brown hair ("crème brulée" according to the box) leaving it no more messy than before. It probably wasn't all that bright of her to bring the original case file out here with her, but she wanted it handy in case anything jogged at her memory.

She grimaced. Memory was the real problem, wasn't it?

If only this little experiment brought back the right _kind_ of memory. She rather liked the novelty of being able to go to sleep at night without chemical assistance.

Thanks to the way this part of the coastline curved, the cliffs opposite the overlook faced west, and caught the full light of the setting sun. Taiyouko was thankful it was late June.

Otherwise, the sun would have been below the horizon before she could get here, even if she did leave when her shift ended. The others had been shocked when she left right at five-thirty. In a way, she was still on the job. After all, she was visiting a crime scene. A crime scene on a case that was finally active again.

She sat on the empty bench right next to the young couple. They seemed oblivious to her presence, but then, one would have to stretch the definition of necking pretty severely to describe what they were doing now. Well, that was their business and it didn't bother her a bit. She began to look through the case file--she smiled a little as she recognized her own handwriting on some of the reports.

The couple stopped fondling one another after a while and gazed out at the view. It was a romantic setting, Taiyouko admitted. The light of the setting sun made the sea look the way wine looked in her dreams. The rocks on the cliff glowed a golden-red she wanted to wrap around herself like a blanket.

The light also made the shadows stand out more, and the contrast of light and shadow made the rocks look very, very sharp indeed. Although exquisitely beautiful, this was not a place of peace.

The girl on the other bench sighed. "Aren't the waves pretty, Hiroshi? Look at how they reach up all white and sparkly." She sighed again and trailed a finger down his cheek. "It looks just like a wedding veil, doesn't it, Hiro-chan?"

"Hiro-chan's" voice cracked as he agreed with this bit of proposal-bait while Taiyouko masked her laughter with a discreet cough. Then she sobered. It took very little imagination to see the spray from the breakers as a piece of tulle and lace. It didn't take much more imagination to see it as a huge white paw reaching up from the ocean, claws extended to catch the unwary and shred them to ribbons.

It took even less imagination if you had seen the autopsy photos.

Taiyouko reached into the file and pulled out one of the photos. It was impossible to tell without reading the caption whether this was the man or the woman. One would almost have to take it on faith that the photo was of a human being. She peered at it carefully, looking at the cuts and contusions, not seeing the remains of a face, but a pattern of marks, gashes, and dents, one of which might be the thing she was looking for, something that would confirm the use of something more regular in shape and size than a rock.

The divers had pulled the bodies out of the sea just minutes before she had arrived on the scene. The forensics team was snapping photo after photo, their flashbulbs illuminating the remains in bursts, giving some semblance of life to the unlucky couple. Although it was clear there was nothing to be done for them, everyone on the scene worked quickly.

The fourteen-year-old photos, though static, brought that same sense of urgency. What was left of the faces and hands had been reduced to a meaty pulp and was thoroughly waterlogged. Horror, pity, and rage passed in quick succession, now as it had back then, only to be replaced with a sharp, focused coolness. Whatever once made the remains in the photograph a living, breathing, fallible, beloved, and irreplaceable human being was long gone. All that was left was a challenge to her wits and determination. There would be time enough for anger once she knew what quarry to pursue.

A sudden gust of wind ripped the photo from her hands. Taiyouko gasped in horror and leapt to her feet as she saw the piece of evidence about to be blown out to sea, but the young man snatched the photo out of mid-air. He smiled politely and stood up to hand it to her. Then his face turned green.

Hiroshi thrust the photo at Taiyouko, who took it with a bow and a demure "arigatou." She sighed as he continued to stare at her, wide-eyed and pale. "Sorry to interrupt your little... er, outing, but I'm following up on a murder case."

"M-murder?" Hiroshi backed away while his girlfriend craned her neck, eager to see the photograph. Taiyouko slid it back into the envelope.

"Yeah. Nice young couple, from what we could tell. They were just out on an nice romantic Sunday drive, when boom!" She jerked her head towards the cliff. "We found the bodies right down there."

"Down... there?" It was clear that he wasn't visualizing any damn wedding veil this time.

"Mmm-hmm. We still don't know who did it," she said in her perkiest 'office lady' voice. She reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a business card. Tucking the envelope under her arm, she held out the business card in both hands. "Detective Seidou Taiyouko. Homicide. Be sure to call me right away if you see anything suspicious. I'm assuming the two of you come here pretty often, right?"

She didn't so much smile as pull her lips back from her teeth, encouraging them to get the hint and get the hell out.

Hiroshi looked at his girlfriend, looked at the card in Taiyouko's hands, then grabbed his girlfriend by the wrist and practically dragged her back to the car. The tires spit gravel he sped from the parking lot.

"Heh. Maybe I should have told him that this all happened fourteen years ago," she mused. At least she could think in peace, now that she had brought her own personal brand of sunshine into the young couple's lives and sent them packing. She sat back down and pulled a box of Pocky out of her pocket. She jammed a cookie-stick into her mouth, then cursed around a mouthful of chocolate as she caught herself searching her pockets for a lighter.

Fourteen years ago. Her first time as primary on a big homicide case. The case that could have built her career but that damn near scuttled it before it had a chance to start. She riffled through the photos until she found the one of the brake line. For a car's brakes to fail anywhere on this stretch of road was potentially fatal, but only potentially.

A lot of accidents happened along this stretch of road. Many of them resulted in fatalities. This crash _could_ have been an accident. It certainly looked like an accident to the casual observer.

This photo, however, clearly showed that the brake line had been cut nearly halfway through. The puncture was too neat for it to have been anything else but deliberate. There were other things as well, things that made this case stink like a week-old haddock.

Every possible piece of identification had been removed from the couple's bodies, including the labels on their clothing.

The registration and tags were missing from the car, and the VIN numbers had been scraped off the doors, engine, and dashboard.

The couple's faces and hands were so crushed and mangled that fingerprints and dental records were useless.

In fact, the injuries sustained by the young couple were so severe that the medical examiner at the time--a man infamous for his unwillingness to speculate--doubted they could have been caused by the crash and fall alone. For once, he showed evidence of a spine and suggested that the majority of the couple's injuries could have been inflicted post-mortem. The official cause of death was listed as drowning. Taiyouko made a mental note to have Watanabe Juni take another look at the coroner's report.

Taiyouko slapped the envelope against her knee and scowled. Back then, her 'instincts' told her that this crime was connected to several others, including a vicious assault on an old friend of hers some three years before. When she then suggested that professionals were involved, the case was ripped from her hands so fast it caused friction burns.

"Bastards."

To be honest, once she looked back at her personal case notes, she could make little sense of what she had written. Abbreviations that had meant something at the time now might as well have been in ancient Sumerian. She also could not imagine why she would ever think that the man who'd tried to stab Ku-chan could be connected to the case. And as for instinct, she now believed in that the way she believed in luck, eternal love, and risk-free investment plans. It might exist, but you'd be a fool to rely on it.

Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Harada-san called her into his office just as she was getting ready to leave for the day. He murmured something about her otherwise perfect closure record, and slid the file to her across his desk with no further explanation.

He also gave her a college transcript. It was the one link they had, he said, to the most important witness to the accident. Its appearance was what gave him the idea to re-open this case.

Harada-san admitted that he wasn't sure if it was a valid link. It had come in anonymously, but he wanted Taiyouko to follow up on the lead--just in case. At the time, the only other person they'd been able to interrogate was the man who'd seen the broken guard rail and who had called in the accident. There was, however, one other person Taiyouko wished she had been able to speak to at the time.

Despite the severity of the fall and of the couple's injuries, and despite the fact that the car had been underwater for over an hour before a rescue team could make it down to the violent surf, there had been a survivor. A six-year-old boy.

Miracle of miracles, the back seat of the car was not badly crushed, and a tiny pocket of air had been trapped in the back of the car. The car was tilted so that the seatbelt holding the unconscious child upright kept his head in the middle of the air pocket. It was enough, but barely. The divers said that if they had arrived even a few minutes later, the boy would have been dead. As it was, they had to use mouth-to-mouth once they got him back to shore, and he coded twice more on the way to the hospital.

Taiyouko had demanded that she be allowed to question the boy. Unfortunately, he had sustained a severe blow to the head, and the doctors said that anoxia may have caused irreversible brain damage. They said there was a fifty-percent chance he would wake from his coma, but even Taiyouko could tell that those numbers were weighted towards the optimistic.

She would never forget what happened to her when she saw that boy for the first time.

She had gone to the boy's hospital room, and sat by his bed for hours, staring. The doctor, a chauvinist pig if she had ever met one, had commented about how sweet it was to see her doting on the comatose boy. He suggested that maybe this was a sign that it was time for Taiyouko to quit the force to settle down and have children. The fact that he followed this with an invitation to go out dancing nearly resulted in his abrupt transfer to the gastro-intestinal ward for stethoscope removal.

Doting? Heh. When she looked at the strange, nameless boy, his head swathed in bandages, something dark and primal beat on the walls of her conscious mind, howling in fury, and it wasn't anything resembling maternal instinct. It wanted something, and Taiyouko suspected that what it wanted was blood. Whose blood, she didn't care to guess, but the boy was the key.

After having the case pulled from her, she allowed herself to wallow in her rage and frustration. Nightmares that hadn't plagued her since childhood rose up to overwhelm her, tinged with the blood-lust of the thing lurking in the primitive parts of her brain. After two nights of this, she was afraid to go to bed.

She went six days without sleeping. On the seventh day, she collapsed in the hallway between her desk and the coffee machine. When she woke up from the inevitable nightmare, she was in the hospital with an order to take two weeks of leave. She recovered and went back to her desk after only one week as if nothing had happened. It was less than two months before she was once again a lead investigator on the toughest murder cases.

It took nearly five years before she could fall asleep without the help of tranquilizers.

Shortly after returning to work, she went back to the children's ward at International Catholic only to find that the boy had been made a ward of the state, assigned a name, shuffled off to an orphanage, and lost in a tangle of red tape and confidentiality clauses. She nearly went insane as the fury howling in her mind rose to a shriek. No matter what she tried or how many orphanages she visited or boy's home directors she threatened, she could find no trace of the boy. Over the next year, the howling in her mind faded to a whisper.

None of her later cases affected her in that way. Oh, there were some that kicked her anger level up beyond its normal simmer, and there had been at least one time when she nearly took justice into her own hands, but this case still haunted her.

It didn't bother her that her record had this one blot. What bothered her was that she had somehow missed something very, very important. Not a clue, not the identity of the murderer or murderers, but the _why_. The thoroughness with which these identities were erased suggested that this was bigger than two faceless people and their nameless boy. Then, the boy had been hidden so well that she couldn't even figure out where to begin looking for a trail. You had to have powerful friends or powerful enemies to be able to pull that one off.

But now she had a name and a school record. If she could assume it was the right person, then Mystery-boy was in his third year of medical school. She didn't have his address or phone number, but the registrar at Keiou would hand that over once Taiyouko flashed some identification and attitude.

What was he like now, she wondered. And would he remember anything about the accident and what happened after? Or, more importantly, what had happened before? The thought that she would soon see him brought a chill that was at once ecstatic and terrifying. She read the name given to the boy and spoke it aloud, feeling the shape of the syllables in her mouth.

"Chiba Mamoru."

Taiyouko stared out at the raging ocean and the dying light. "Just how much do you know about yourself, Chiba Mamoru? And why are you so important?"

**7:38 p.m.**

"Surprise!!!!"

Usagi stood in the doorway to Makoto's apartment, giving a very good impression of a beached mackerel. Mamoru stood behind her, gently laughing.

"We'll do our date night tomorrow night," he said.

"Oh, but that's my night out with the girls," Usagi cried. Then she looked at the room full of grinning girls. "But they...we...tonight..." She turned to glare at Mamoru. "You were all in on this together, weren't you!"

The rest of the girls continued laughing. Mamoru gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead. "That's my Usa-ko. The reservations and concert tickets are for tomorrow, just in case you were wondering." He pulled her into a hug and gave her another kiss. The kiss was chaste, if only because seven girls were surrounding them, nudging each other and giggling. "I'll see you tomorrow at seven. Have a nice night with the girls... and look out for any more surprises."

Usagi shook her head, now laughing with the rest of them. Minako was still pink in the face and her struggles to stop laughing kept sending the others into giggle-fits. "I don't see how this can be any more surprising unless Rei and Minako have some practical jokes planned."

Rei--ever on her dignity--spluttered in protest, which of course sent Minako back into gales of laughter.

"You are so busted, Rei," Makoto drawled. Rei just gave her the evil eye. Minako was now coughing, and waving off any other attempt to get her going again.

"Guys... oh, man... I _hurt_. Whooo... I don't think I've gone off like that in ages!"

Usagi kicked off her shoes and hurried in to give everyone a big hug. "I can't believe you guys pulled this off! I had no idea! Whose idea was this, anyway?"

They all looked at one another, grinning as if they knew some big secret. Setsuna gave Usagi a gentle hug, their cheeks feather-brushing together. "It was everyone's idea. Someone suggested a surprise party, someone else suggested pulling Mamoru-kun into the game, and so on." She smiled. It was her typical sphinx-like smile, but it was more amused than mysterious. "Someone else came up with the idea for the really big surprise."

"Speaking of which," said Ami, "shouldn't we bring out the surprise?"

"No way! There really is another surprise?" Usagi's mind raced to think of what it might be. Had they pooled their money to get her something wonderful? She couldn't think of anything she wanted. Jewelry, yes, but that was something she specifically wanted from Mamoru. She hoped she had dropped enough hints.

Minako and Ami were about to dash for the bedroom door when Michiru interrupted. "Don't you think we should wait for Haruka? I can't imagine why she's running late." If she was worried or annoyed, she hid it well. "If you want to go ahead, though, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Usagi was about to say that they could wait when Makoto's door slammed open. "Haruka-san! Is everything all right?"

"Traffic," snarled Haruka. She kicked her shoes against the wall and stalked into the apartment. "Happy birthday," she growled, thrusting a present into Usagi's hands. Then she stopped, collected herself, and hugged Usagi close. "Don't mind me, kitten. I'm sorry I couldn't be here on time for your surprise. Happy birthday." She let Usagi go before anyone would have any excuse to comment.

"Let's get on with the surprise!" Minako said. "I don't think I can wait any longer!"

"Am I going to like this surprise?" Usagi wondered. Something about the way Minako was giggling made her nervous.

"Actually," Rei said in an unusually loud voice, prim priestess mode at gale force nine, "we should probably wait until _after_ dinner to bring out the surprise." She winked at the group. Her normally stern face glowed with mischief.

Usagi forced herself to keep smiling. This was getting stranger by the second.

Minako did a quick double-take. She was looking at the bedroom door as she spoke. "Maybe... maybe we should wait until _after dessert_?"

Hotaru stifled a laugh.

Ami jumped as Minako jabbed her in the ribs. "What? Oh, oh yes. Absolutely. There's no point in bringing out the surprise until dessert is _all gone._"

"WHAT!"

The bedroom door flew open. Silhouetted in the doorframe like a vengeful gunfighter out of some old Western stood a furious Chibi-Usa.

Before Chibi-Usa had the chance to lodge any more protests about the possible lack of dessert, Usagi launched herself across the room and half slid, half fell to her knees as she pulled Chibi-Usa into a tight embrace.

"Oh, baby... I've missed you... I've missed you so much!"

Chibi-Usa buried her face in Usagi's neck and murmured something the others could not hear. Mother and daughter, yet sisters in a way, the two held each other close for a long time. It was impossible to tell if they were laughing, or crying, or both at once.

Makoto watched, and smiled. She now had some idea of why NeoQueen Serenity would allow her daughter to travel back through time.

* * *

The rest of the evening was devoted to food, laughter, presents, and fun. Over dinner, everyone did her best to play catch-up. Makoto spread a picnic cloth in the middle of her living room floor so that everyone could move around as they ate and talk to everyone they wanted. Naturally, Chibi-Usa was in great demand, but Usagi and Setsuna managed to monopolize most of her attention. Luna and Artemis finally showed up, and immediately cuddled up with Diana. The others drifted into a variety of conversations about boys, school, their futures as Senshi, the latest game fad, the resemblance of certain of their enemies to sports or movie stars, the existential unfairness of pre-calculus, and the nature of good and evil itself.

At one point, Hotaru, Michiru, and Haruka went out on the balcony to talk, with Ami tagging along behind. It was only when the conversation appeared to be heading south at an alarming rate that Makoto went out to usher them inside for cake and presents.

"Haruka-san," Makoto ordered, "there are some birthday presents in the hall closet. Could you bring them into the living room? Ami-chan, I need some help with the cake. Would you mind?" She pulled Ami alongside her and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Are they at it again?"

"What do _you_ think?" Ami retorted.

Minako grabbed Hotaru and hustled her into the kitchen to help with the dinner dishes.

Although the others tried to be discreet about it, Usagi didn't miss a second of what just happened. Lately, she thought, they were all spending a lot of time running interference between Haruka and the now-adolescent Hotaru. She wondered if there was something else they should do, or if it would be better to let things run their course.

After a few minutes, Michiru dimmed the lights and Ami and Makoto walked in with the cake. As the others all sang "Happy Birthday," Usagi realized that there was something odd about the cake.

"Why," she asked, "are there only fourteen candles?"

"Ami-chan, do you care to explain?" asked Makoto.

"Well, since this is your birthday and ChibiUsa's birthday, and since both of you are here, we thought that we'd have a joint celebration."

ChibiUsa gasped in delighted surprise, but Usagi's brows were still drawn together.

"Yeah, but why fourteen candles? I don't get it."

Ami explained patiently, the way she always ended up doing during their study sessions. "It's simple, really. You are eighteen. ChibiUsa is nine-hundred and nine years old. At least that's the case in the thirtieth century, but since having more than nine hundred candles on one cake isn't really practical, I thought it might be better to take ChibiUsa's age in this century. Therefore, since Usagi is eighteen and ChibiUsa is, technically speaking, negative four, we have fourteen candles."

There was a moment of silence.

"Ami-chan," Minako said, "you're weird. We love you to pieces, but you are _seriously_ weird."

"It made sense to me," Ami said.

ChibiUsa and Usagi blew out the candles. They made a competition of it, seeing who could blow out the most candles first. Makoto took the cake, saying she would divide it up and scoop out the ice cream while Usagi and ChibiUsa opened their presents.

Rei, being less prone to stammers and blushes than Ami, less prone to giggle-fits than Minako, and less encumbered with chocolate sauce than Makoto, was designated as official present-giver. Setsuna was in charge of the camera, and Hotaru, who was something of a packrat, volunteered to salvage any ribbons and paper that might be reusable. Haruka and Michiru were content to snuggle up together on the couch.

"As you all know," Rei began, "poor Usagi won't be able to marry Mamoru until she passes her entrance exams. Given past examples of her academic performance, we thought that Usagi might need the help and support of her friends." She paused and waited for the inevitable Usagi-fit to pass. "A few of us got together and decided to give you some gifts to help you get through your senior year. Now where should we start?"

"Rei-chan, why don't you hand her my gift first," said Makoto. "Oh, and unless someone says otherwise, I'm going to assume that everyone wants ice cream and hot fudge." It surprised no one that Michiru was the only one to turn down the offer.

"And just a teeny-weeny little sliver of cake, if you don't mind," she added.

Usagi, less than enthusiastic at the prospect of practical gifts, pulled the ribbon off the first package. Conscious of Hotaru's anxious stare, she was careful to pry the wrapping paper apart at the taped edges. "Study fuel," said the label on the box inside. The box was full to the top with homemade cookies, and the card contained a handwritten gift certificate redeemable for one box of cookies each and every month until exams were over. "You don't have to share those with Shingo," said Makoto. "These are extenuating circumstances"

"You'll share with me, won't you Usagi?" asked Chibi-Usa. For some reason, Makoto found this funny.

When Rei announced Ami's gift as a set of tapes meant to supplement Usagi's scheduled study-times, Usagi forced herself to look cheerful. Only Ami would think of extra study sessions as a fun gift. Usagi told herself to look excited and grateful, even if it was a series of tapes on _The Joys of Differential Calculus_, or perhaps _Fun with Organic Chemistry_. Therefore, when the tapes turned out to be the entire OAV series of _Magic Knights Rayearth_ she was so stunned that she could not speak, and later she had to reassure Ami over and over that she loved the gift.

"One thing you've taught me, Usagi-chan," Ami said, "is that there's more to life than studying. Breaking for fun once in a while will help keep your mind fresh." There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Just remember that those are for when you are done with your scheduled studies, not instead of your scheduled studies."

"Meanie."

Rei's own gift was next. "As a priestess, I felt that I should give you something to help further your spiritual readiness for these exams." Usagi opened the proffered envelope with some hesitation, expecting special charm or something of that kind. Instead, it was a gift certificate to a well-respected but not overly posh salon that could be redeemed for a series of stress-reducing massages and aromatherapy treatments. Usagi recalled that this particular salon was also associated with an excellent bakery and café so once could get a chocolate éclair to go with one's seaweed wrap. The thought alone sent Usagi's stress levels down significantly.

Next was Minako's gift. "A certificate for one day at a special... cram school," said Rei, "this Sunday--as in the day after tomorrow--from nine to six."

"So that's why you got me to schedule all day with you, Minako-chan," said Usagi. She had figured out her friends' little joke by then and ripped open Minako's envelope with frightening enthusiasm. "Let's see what this--OMIGOD!!" She leaned over and nearly crushed Minako's ribs in a bear hug. "It's that manga-drawing class I was dying to go to! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She hugged Minako again.

"I'm also registered," whispered Minako. "It may be your birthday, but some things are more fun if you share the experience, right?"

"Where's Setsuna?" asked Rei. "She had the camera."

Setsuna walked in from the balcony, hands raised in conciliation. "Sorry, everyone. I just wanted to see if I could get a better camera angle from outside. Haruka, do you have our gifts handy?"

The gifts from the Guardian Senshi of the Outer Solar System also appeared to follow a theme, although the four denied that any planning was involved. From Haruka, Usagi received a pair of earrings. The baroque pearls were tear-shaped, and had a tiny diamond accent on the setting. Michiru gave her a collection of Shiseido cosmetics that must have cost a small fortune. There was also a gift certificate for a makeup lesson from one of Shiseido's expert makeup artists. Hotaru's gift was a scarf of dove gray silk chiffon. The corners of the scarf were weighted with small crystal beads, and a pattern of sakura petals had been hand-painted onto the scarf. It was meant to appear as if the scarf had been left out during cherry-blossom season to collect a random scattering of the delicate petals. Setsuna gave her a certificate saying that she would make Usagi a dress in any style and fabric she wanted, custom fitted. "But not a wedding dress," she said. "That will be your wedding present when the time comes."

Although no one would ever point this out to anyone else in the room, it was obvious that the Outer Senshi still regarded Usagi as their beloved and holy princess, while the Inner Senshi saw her as their dear, if somewhat goofy, friend.

The gifts for ChibiUsa did not reflect any such distinction. Whether they called her Small Lady, or ChibiUsa-chan, or You Brat, all the Senshi treated ChibiUsa as they would any other beloved eleven year old.

She got a variety of cute outfits and pajamas (all of which would have to be exchanged, thanks to her growth spurt) from Haruka, Michiru, and Minako. Rei had found an antique teapot shaped like a rabbit curled up for a nap. Setsuna gave her a sweet little umbrella from what was apparently some famous store in France. The handle was carved into the shape of a rabbit, and the cloth of the umbrella was a plaid in what could only be described as Easter-egg colors. A white eyelet edging completed the piece. From Makoto she got a hand-painted basket full of cookies and a hastily made gift certificate for personal, specialized martial arts training and cooking lessons. Ami gave her a hardbound sketchbook, some really good pencils and ink pens, and a box of watercolors with more colors than ChibiUsa had ever seen together in one place.

Hotaru's gift was far heavier than it looked, and ChibiUsa nearly dropped it. It was fortunate that she didn't, since the package contained a thick-walled pottery bowl. It was mostly white, and the inside was sponge-painted strawberry pink. An ivy border ran around the outside rim and had obviously been painted with great care and bated breath. If you looked closely, you might notice that the bowl was just slightly lopsided and that one of the ivy leaves had smudged. But only if you looked closely.

"We're doing ceramics in art class right now," said Hotaru, "and this bowl is the first thing I made that I actually liked." A blush showed up on her pale skin. "I remember, when we first met, and I was so lonely, how you gave me that Grail you made."

Usagi was about to say something, but Minako pinched her.

"That meant so much to me, especially when you said that your teacher told you to give it to someone who was very special to you. So," continued Hotaru, "I wanted you to have this, since you're very special to me." She and ChibiUsa hugged for a moment, and when they parted, ChibiUsa was blinking back tears.

"Is that all the presents?" asked Minako. "Man, that went by way too fast!"

"I feel so bad!" cried Usagi. "I didn't get you anything, ChibiUsa!" She paused. "But then again, I didn't know you were coming, so how could I get you a present?"

"Oh, I'll be here for a while," said ChibiUsa, "so you'll have plenty of time to make up for it."

"Why you..." snarled Usagi. This of course started a tickle fight.

Makoto stopped in the middle of scooping ice cream. "Wait a minute. Is that _all_ the presents? ChibiUsa-chan, didn't you say that there was something else?" When ChibiUsa gave her a blank look, Makoto mouthed, "your mom."

"That's right! Wait right here, Usagi!" She ran to the bedroom. The three cats followed.

"Isn't that just like you, to run away from a tickle fight just because I'm winning!" teased Usagi. "What a birthday!" She blinked a couple of times. "Wait a minute. Did you just say something about more presents?"

ChibiUsa came back from the bedroom with two boxes. One was wrapped in bright yet ordinary wrapping paper. The other was wrapped in silver paper that shimmered like water and was tied with gossamer bows that were little more than a suggestion of iridescence in the air around the box. Everyone gaped. Even unopened, this was quite a present.

"Who's that from?" asked Usagi.

"From Mama," said ChibiUsa.

There was another moment of silence while everyone digested _that_ bit of information.

"How can it be a birthday gift when she's going to get it back in nine hundred years?" asked Minako.

"Silly. She'd already had it for nine hundred years. She doesn't get it _back_." Rei said. "Wait a second. Something about that doesn't seem right."

"So if she had the present to give to Usagi," said Ami, "then she must have received it for her own birthday nine hundred years in her past so she could send it back to our present. So where did the original present come from? _Someone_ had to make it. It couldn't just exist in some weird loop of time, could it?"

Inevitably, everyone turned to look at Setsuna.

She covered her eyes with one hand and shook her head slowly. "Don't even try to figure it out. It won't make sense unless you...well, unless you're someone like me." The others waited for an explanation, but none was forthcoming. "Usagi-chan, please promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

"In your future, please don't mess with the space-time continuum. Just don't, okay?" she said wearily.

Curious about what her future self thought would be a good gift, Usagi opened the package. She took her time, enjoying the feel of the unusual ribbon. It felt like water slipping through her fingers. The paper, which looked like water, actually felt more like some kind of rice paper. It was somewhat anticlimactic to find that it covered a plain white box sealed with a single piece of cellophane tape. While ChibiUsa fidgeted anxiously, Usagi slit the tape with her thumbnail and opened the box. "Oh my goodness, would you look at that..."

She placed the box on the floor next to her and lifted out a large jeweled object.

"What is it?"

"What's it supposed to be?"

"Are those real diamonds? They're huge!"

It was an egg. A little smaller than an ostrich egg, the 'shell' was made of a pale pink clear enamel laid over an engraved silver surface. The engravings almost but didn't quite form some sort of pattern.

"Those swirls look like Mandelbrodt sets," murmured Ami. "What's all the decoration on the top and around the middle?"

On top of the enamel were bands of gold and jewels, forming a cage of rambling rose. The heart of each rose was a different brightly-colored jewel surrounded by diamonds that caught and refracted the light. The veins on the golden leaves were filled in with some sort of copper or bronze that had been given a light green patina. It was a work of art, a perfect balance of wild and the artificial.

"It's beautiful," breathed Usagi.

"Yes," said Ami, "but what does it do? What is it _for_?"

One band of rambling rose circled the egg around the middle. "It looks like this might be hiding some sort of opening," said Usagi. "Ami-chan, you're the clever one. See if it opens. I'm afraid I'll break it."

She handed it to Ami. ChibiUsa squawked in protest.

"It's Ami, silly. She won't drop it!" Usagi chided.

Even so, ChibiUsa squirmed and bit at her lower lip as Ami took the egg and began to examine the metalwork.

"It looks almost like one of the Fabergé Easter eggs that Tsar Nikolas used to give to his wife," said Michiru. "Those always opened up and had some sort of surprise inside, like a little golden coach-and-four or a portrait of their children."

"I can't seem to find the opening," said Ami. "Do you want to take a look, Mako-chan?"

"Later. I've got chocolate sauce all over my hands." She licked one finger clean. "Such a tragedy."

Ami offered it to Hotaru, who was busy untying and rolling up the ribbons and salvaging the wrapping paper. She said would take a closer look later. Something in her tone earned her a glare from Haruka. Ami handed the egg to Michiru. Michiru examined the egg from all angles, running a well-manicured fingertip over the filigree and jewel roses. Haruka looked on with her, one arm around Michiru's shoulders. Michiru passed it to Minako, who also tried to find some sort of opening.

ChibiUsa sighed and shrugged, apparently figuring that it wasn't her problem if Usagi's present got broken.

"Maybe it's just supposed to be decorative. It is quite pretty, after all," said Michiru, as a frustrated Minako passed the egg to Rei.

Rei turned the egg over and over, admiring the workmanship. Then she just held it for a moment as her eyes glazed over. She blinked a few times and shook her head. "I didn't feel anything odd," she said. "I'd have to agree with Michiru." She handed the egg back to Usagi and Setsuna clicked another picture.

"Maybe the future queen was looking for an excuse to clean out her attic," muttered Luna.

"Do palaces even have attics?" asked Minako.

"The idea does seem rather mundane, now that you mention it," said Luna.

Last of all, it was time for ChibiUsa's present to Usagi. The wrapping was not as nice as that on Serenity's present, but it was cute, and clever. It was also very heavy. Usagi hesitated before opening it, but ChibiUsa urged her on.

"Oh, how sweet!" she exclaimed. As far as the others could see, it was a golden square with a complicated, ruffled edging.

"Is it a picture frame?" asked Ami.

"Turn it around so we can see," ordered Minako.

Usagi did as she was asked. "ChibiUsa made a picture of me and Mamo-chan," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

It was of Usagi and Mamoru, or to be more precise, Usa-ko and Mamo-chan. It wasn't King Endymion in his sunset colored cloak and NeoQueen Serenity in her dress of spun silver. It wasn't even Tuxedo Kamen in his formal wear and Sailor Moon in her fuku and tiara. In fact, Mamoru was wearing his usual green jacket (which he refused to get rid of despite the fact that it was starting to look rather scruffy) and Usagi was wearing her Juuban high school uniform. They looked like any other young couple you might find on the streets of Tokyo, although if ChibiUsa's drawing was to be taken as forensic evidence, it would be a couple with unusually long legs and large heads.

"It was Mama's idea for me to give this to you. She even had it framed for me."

"It's beautiful," said Usagi, who was trying very hard not to get weepy the way she always seemed to these days. The frame was golden, with a border of flowers and leaves in a style similar to that of the filigree on the egg, but without the jewels and verdigris. "It's perfect."

"Mama said it reminded her of when she was you, and of how much she--you--always loved Mamo-chan, even from the very beginning."

Usagi gave up her struggle for control, barely managing to get out a shaky "arigatou" when Minako handed her a handkerchief.

* * *

**Baltimore, Maryland**

**Friday, June 29**

**8:55 p.m. Tokyo time/7:55 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time**

"Hey, man. Stop worrying. I told you we'd get to the airport on time. You've got plenty of time. Craploads of time. I mean, you're only supposed to be there, what, an hour before your flight?"

"Three hours for international." Jason Wright leaned his head against the Chevy's window and winced in agony. It felt as if Lewis was aiming for every pothole. He was also a little nervous about driving down by the Inner Harbor ever since the recent sewer gas explosions that had sent 300 pound manhole covers spinning into the air like lethal tiddlywinks.

Lewis pulled a long face. "Someone woke up grumpy. You want I should put up the light and turn on the siren? It'll get us there faster."

"NO!" Jason rubbed his forehead. Why, why, why had he let Lewis and Falsone talk him into a 'bon voyage' party at the Waterfront last night?

Despite the rush hour traffic, they were making good time. Once they passed Camden Yards and turned onto the highway, it would be smooth sailing all the way to the airport. Jason wondered if he would be back in Baltimore in time to see Ripken's last game. The International Police Association exchange program was only supposed to last four weeks, but Jason might need to extend his stay for a while. He had hinted as much to one of his brothers, but as far as Lewis, Gharty, and the rest of the squad knew, he was returning at the end of July.

There was a good chance he wouldn't be returning at all. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about the possibility. There was a part of him that loved this city, a place that had eschewed the glitz and glamour of other east coast cities. He loved the neighborhoods that made this place more a collection of small towns than a city. He loved the little Hampden row house he'd bought last year, loved being able to sit on the front stoop on Sunday morning and read the paper or a Tom Clancy novel, while half the neighbors were out on their stoops and the kids chased each other up and down the street and their mothers or grandmothers screamed at them to come back inside and get dressed for church _now_. He had spilled his blood to protect this city. How could he not love it?

But Baltimore was only half of home. There was a piece of his soul that had been flapping loose in the wind since before he could remember. And over the past few years, the part of him that was tied to this funky little city had been stretched, pulled, abused, and twisted in a hundred unspeakable ways. Who was to say that this trip to Tokyo wouldn't be the thing that severed that remaining tie for good? It wouldn't take much. God, what kind of crap hadn't he seen recently? At least he wouldn't have to ever see Eric Maddox again. It was over. Case closed. The trial was a sure thing, but how many times had he heard that before only to watch some piece of human garbage walk free?

"Yo, Wright. What's up with the silence? You ain't thinking about the trial are you? They've got prints, DNA, opportunity, everything but a choir of heavenly angels coming down to point their fingers at the bastard. Half his neighborhood is turning out to tell the jury what kind of scumbag Maddox was."

"I wasn't thinking about the trial" he lied. Lewis might be a schmuck, but he was surprisingly good at reading people. "I was just wondering if they've got a Starbucks in the international terminal."

"It's probably just as well that you're getting the hell out of Dodge. You know, I still can't believe you got picked for this thing," said Lewis, who persisted in ignoring the signs that Jason did Not Want To Talk. "I mean, you don't even speak Japanese, for crying out loud."

"Urusei, Lewis-san. Onegai." _Shut up, Lewis. Please._

"Was that Japanese? When did you learn to speak Japanese? You never told me you knew how to speak Japanese." Lewis swerved across two lanes to get to his exit, ignoring the angry honking of the other commuters.

"Omae wa ooki na baka da na, Lewis-san." _Lewis, you can be _such_ a jackass. _He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Was this headache ever going to go away? "What's the big deal? So you didn't know I spoke Japanese. What's so wrong about that?"

"You never said anything about it, that's what's wrong about it. The past few years you've... ah, hell. I don't know. It's just that you never open up the way you used to." He shook his head. "No one opens up anymore. It's like I'm working with a squad full of strangers."

"Dammit, Lewis! You're acting like I'm deliberately hiding some deep, dark secret! I mean it's not like I'm covering up, oh I don't know, some whacked-out scheme for world domination or something. If you'd ever bothered to ask me anything like 'do you know any foreign languages,' I would have told you."

"_Are_ you covering up some whacked-out scheme for world domination?"

"Nah. Gave it up three years ago for Lent."

"Okay then. Answer me this. How come you know Japanese? You only had the two years of college, right?"

"I was born in Japan."

"You don't look very Japanese, Blondie."

"Hey! You never gave Gee this kind of crap about being Italian, and he's blacker than you are."

"I never gave Gee any crap of any kind, thank you very much."

"Bull. Besides, there's plenty of blondes in Japan." He sighed. It had to be the hangover making him this snappish. He forced himself to speak more calmly. "No, I'm not Japanese. I was just born there, that's all. Navy brat and all that nonsense. I spent the first ten years of my life around Yokohama. I've stayed in touch with a couple of friends off and on, spent a couple of summers there, kept up with the language, that kind of thing." He thought for a bit. "Funny, I've lived in Baltimore for nearly twenty years, and I still think of myself as being from Asia. I guess your early life is as influential as they say."

"In other words, this whole police cultural rah-rah diplomatic understanding blah-de-blah learning experience thingy is just an excuse for you to have yourself a nice little vacation and get together with your peeps on the company dime." They headed east towards the airport, and Lewis pulled down his trademark fedora to shield his eyes from the sun.

"Something like that." It had also been a timely coup for an increasingly demoralized department. Most of the other law enforcement professionals going to Japan for this four week exchange were from the FBI, the Secret Service, even the Texas Rangers. Jason's acceptance into the program was a real bragging point for the brass.

"You don't mind me saying so," Lewis continued, "you look like you could use a vacation. You looked at yourself lately?" He pointed at the sun visor. "Go on, take a look."

Jason obediently pulled down the visor so he could look in the mirror. There was no point arguing with Lewis when he was like this. His eyes were bloodshot—no surprise there. He also looked very much his age this morning: twenty-eight going on sixty-five.

"I haven't slept well lately. I'm looking forward to the trip itself, but I'm dreading the flight."

"Humph. Funny that a guy named Wright should be afraid of flying," said Lewis.

"I'm not afraid of flying. I just don't like airplanes. It's that feeling of being squished or trapped, like you can't move, or go anywhere, or do anything, and the seats these days are so damn small you can't even twitch. I can't even begin to tell you how much I hate that, and I'm going to be on that thing for almost twenty-four hours. I think." Trying to sort out the intricacies of the International Date Line gave him a roaring headache.

"Yeah, and the food's no good either. Well, get some R and R when you're not playing goodwill ambassador, okay? I haven't seen you this strung out since that whole 'incident' three years ago."

Too many painful memories and a whole string of 'incidents' came to mind. "We were all pretty strung out back then, Meldrick. You weren't exactly Mr. Sanity yourself." If he were ever asked to rate the darkest parts of his life, then the first half of that year would take Best in Show, no questions asked.

"Here we are. What airline?"

"Air Canada. Yeah, yeah, I know," he said when he saw Lewis's incredulous look, "but it goes straight through to Japan with only the one stop in Toronto."

They went around the terminal loop until they came to the international pier. The airport was crowded, with cars three deep at the curb, but Lewis pulled up into a red zone, and flashed his badge when the traffic cop looked like she was about to give them grief.

Lewis popped the trunk and Jason got out of the car. "We'll make this quick," he assured the traffic cop, using his most winning smile. He was only trying to keep Lewis out of trouble, but the cop smiled back at him and waved a skycap over. Guess I've still got it, thought Jason, but somehow the thought didn't make him happy. He had just stepped up on the curb to help him out when Lewis called him back.

"Yo, Wright!"

Jason leaned back in the window. The skycap loaded the bags on a dolly. "What is it now?"

"I was thinkin'... say I meet some nice Japanese lady and I want to, you know, impress her. Get things off to a good start. Make her feel at home." He circled his hands as he spoke. "Is there anything I could say or do that might smooth the way to a little 'cultural exchange?'"

"Yeah. Try this. 'Ore wa hentai.' Works every time."

"Ore wa hentai." Lewis repeated the phrase a few more times until he could say it smoothly.

"Not bad, my man. You'll have 'em eating out of your hand in no time." He stood up and thumped the car door. "Now get out there and keep the streets safe and clean. I'll call in when I get the chance, let you all know I got there okay. Sayonara!"

"Adios, amigo. Don't drink the water!"

The unmarked cruiser pulled off. Jason tipped the skycap and went in to the terminal, not sure if he was anxious or relieved. Maybe by going back to Tokyo, even after all these years, he could find his old friends, put his ghosts to rest, and have a chance of a peaceful life. Part of him still hoped that he would find nothing--that the ghosts were only fantasies and the memories nothing more than a bad dream.

Another part of him knew that he was only kidding himself. Deep down in his heart, he knew what he'd find. He just didn't know what the consequences would be.

He hefted his bags as the Air Canada agent waved him up to the desk.

Only one way to find out.

* * *

**Tokyo, Japan**

**Friday, June 29**

**9:03 p.m.**

A girl stood on the balcony of an empty apartment. This particular apartment was on the second floor of an apartment block that was absolutely identical to every other apartment block in a three-street radius. This apartment, however, let her look right across the street into another apartment.

It had taken Mother a very long time to find this place, the girl knew, many more years than she could count. It had taken her a long time to find these people, and it had taken even longer before Mother had been willing to let her go near the apartment on her own.

Across the street, she could see a whole lot of other girls in that apartment, far more than Mother had told her to expect. They were all laughing. They were having fun.

The girl cocked her head to one side, wondering what they were talking about. It was tempting to jump across the street to land on the balcony on the other side. To listen, and maybe, just maybe, join in. Not now, she reminded herself. Not yet. Mother had been very firm about that.

The girl reached into a pocket of nothingness and pulled out a crystal ball no bigger than a hen's egg. It looked perfectly round, but it was not a true sphere. Rather, the surface was made up of hundreds of tiny facets, each absolutely identical. If a mathematician were to measure and add up the angles of the crystal, the numbers would suggest that the crystal could not possibly exist. The numbers did add up correctly, but then again, most mathematicians would only think to measure in three dimensions. To the girl, however, it was just a pretty crystal--a _special_ crystal.

The crystal shone a faint reddish-gold in the moonlight, but as the young women in the apartment across the way passed near the balcony window, into the crystal's line of 'sight,' the facets brightened and refracted the light in different colors. The girl with the long purplish black hair made the crystal glow red. One of the three blondes--the one with long hair held back from her face with a cute red ribbon--turned it orange. Mars and Venus, the girl told herself, confident that she had gotten it right. It had taken her a while, but she knew all of the colors by heart.

Four other girls went out onto the balcony to talk together. Two had short dark hair. Another had long, aqua-blue hair. The fourth was another of the blondes, the tall one with the short hair. She had her arm around the shoulders of the one with the aqua hair. The crystal responded with a confused pulse of many shades of blue, from baby to navy and from almost-green to purple.

The girl frowned. The crystal wasn't supposed to do things like that. One of the girls must be Mercury, because she did recognize the sparks of pure, pale blue. The girl decided it was the one with the long, wavy aquamarine hair. She was the prettiest, after all, and had the nicest dress. But who were the other three? What did their colors mean?

Another girl, this one with long brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail, came out onto the balcony to usher the others inside. Something about cake and presents, it appeared. That sounded like fun. The one with the ponytail was alone on the balcony for just a second, and the crystal turned pure forest green. All four Senshi were there, just as Mother had said they might be.

Six of the girls remained a mystery. The three on the balcony. Then, there was another woman with long dark hair who hadn't yet passed by the window. The remaining two obligingly moved towards the balcony.

There was a third blond aside from Venus and the blue-glow blonde, and there was also another girl with pretty pink hair. Sisters? Yes, she decided. They wore their hair the same way, after all. They stood together with their backs to the window while the others started singing and Jupiter brought in a huge pink cake covered with candles. The watcher refused to let her desire to leap across the road get the better of her. Instead, she reminded herself of what Mother had said and forced herself to focus on the crystal and whatever it had to say about these two girls.

Maybe it was their closeness, but they seemed to confuse her crystal. At first, the moonlight danced across the crystal in every shade of the rainbow, with motes of darkness suggesting that the crystal was refracting colors undetectable by the human eye. At first randomly, then pulling into a rapidly tightening spiral, the colors blended together until they formed a silvery white marbled with a pale, rosy gold. She gasped as the glow grew more intense.

The princess? It was possible, certainly it was possible, but...

The light went out as if the crystal had been plunged into a bucket of ink. The watcher looked up.

Across the street, one figure leaned out over the balcony railing, as if looking for the source of the strange light. She turned her head this way and that, slowly, like someone trying to locate by scent rather than sight. The woman was backlit, so that the watcher could not see her face. All she could see of the woman was the light that outlined her and gave a greenish cast to the long, dark hair.

The watcher pressed her back to the wall behind her. She could not afford to be seen. Not now. Not yet. In a near panic, she looked down at the crystal, hoping that it hadn't started glowing again.

It hadn't. At least it hadn't started glowing in a way that anyone could actually see. If such a thing were possible, the crystal glowed black. This was not just the absence of color. It was a deep black that held all light captive. It looked like a hole in her white-gloved hand.

The black-glow woman lifted her head in surprise, turned, and went back into the apartment. The watcher nearly yelped in surprise as the photons that had been held in stillness were released in a flash of violet light.

The watcher slipped the crystal back into its pocket and leapt up and across the street to the roof of the building she had been watching. She had found the Senshi, yes, but apparently she had found much, much more than that in the bargain.

The princess? Could it be? Had she _really_ found her?

Mother would be _so_ proud of her!

* * *

**9:17 p.m.**

On the way back from the garage, Taiyouko stopped at an all-night mini-mart. There was a chance she might have a house guest for a few weeks, and she wanted to make sure that she had some real food on hand. Not many people had the same views as she did as to what constituted acceptable breakfast food. She contemplated picking up a carton of cigarettes, but instead threw a few more boxes of Pocky into her basket. As a sop to her conscience and her waistline she also picked up some celery and carrots, even though a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her they stood a seventy percent chance of turning in to primordial soup before she became desperate enough to snack on them.

As she rounded the corner from the bus stop, she noticed a group of about five people yammering excitedly and pointing upwards. One of them was pointing a camcorder towards the rooftops. Her police instincts took over, and she started looking for a fire, for signs of a domestic dispute in one of the surrounding apartments, or for something even worse. It never occurred to her that these people might be excited about an advertising balloon, or searchlights that were advertising some new nightclub, or some teen idol lounging on a balcony.

She finally saw it. There was a flash of white and gold as a girl leapt from the top of her apartment building to the roof of the apartment building across the street. The crowd gasped as the girl landed easily, then rose into another graceful leap and out of sight.

"Whatever," Taiyouko muttered.

It was just one of those supposedly magical crime-fighting girls. The Sailor Somethings. It was the one in the yellow micro-skirt. Although she found it hard to think of them as anything but somewhat silly amateurs, she didn't begrudge the girls their activities. In fact, she found herself cheering them on. If they wanted to fight unearthly demon scum bent on death and destruction, then more power to them. That left Taiyouko's slate clean for her to concentrate on fighting all-too-earthly human scum bent on death and destruction.

Her partner also recently observed that as an upside to all of this, his oldest daughter no longer resented having to wear the traditional sailor uniform to school. Of course, it also meant that his wife was going crazy trying to enforce what she saw as a modest hemline. She unlocked the front door to the building. She was halfway up the stairs to her third-floor apartment when a stray thought stopped her in her tracks.

The one in the _yellow_ skirt?

* * *

Author's notes: If you are not familiar with "Homicide" (one of the best cop shows _ever_), don't worry. Anything you absolutely need to know will be explained in the course of the story.


	2. A Backwards Glance

**Saturday, June 30**

**4:02 a.m.**

Hino Rei rose every morning at four to spend an hour or two meditating in front of the shrine fire. After following this practice for nearly a decade, she hardly even needed an alarm clock anymore. This morning, however, the little electric alarm beeped at her for two minutes straight before she realized that the noise was not that of a drunken leprechaun jumping up and down and making rude suggestions.

Fortunately, that odd little dream-snippet didn't quite drive away the memory of another, far more significant dream.

As she did every morning, Rei splashed her face with cold water, then put on the crisp white chihaya and the red hibakama she had laid out fresh and clean the night before. Switching from her "Totoro" nightshirt to her traditional miko garb was an essential part of readying her mind for meditation. She had done something like that every morning ever since she could remember. There was always some action that signified that she had put away the child and had become the adult. That was just how it was.

Sometimes, she was tempted to skip her morning routine, but today, the thought never crossed her mind. Rei grabbed the journal she kept by her bed and headed to the kitchen for some tea.

She'd had an unusually vivid dream last night, with images and sensations that were only just now starting to fade. Fortunately, she had her dream-journal. She had learned from experience to make notes about what she saw right away, even if it was the middle of the night.

She yawned so hard that her eyes watered. Maybe two cups of tea were called for this morning. She could use the extra time to review her notes.

Had she really stayed at Mako-chan's until midnight? The time she'd spent with the Senshi had changed her in more ways than just the mystical. She was finally--if grudgingly--learning how to play. The best part of the evening was watching Usagi having such a happy time. For the past year, it was as if she had reverted to the way she was over three years ago, when the slightest crisis could reduce her to tears.

Although she knew that she shouldn't think that way, Rei truly hoped that Galaxia was experiencing eternal torment somewhere. A tiny shred of her mind could remember what it was like to be reanimated by the rogue Senshi as a living weapon to be turned against the woman to whom she had dedicated her life. Rei bit her lips together as she firmly pushed that scrap of memory aside. Usagi had forgiven Galaxia, so Rei should be able to forgive her as well, shouldn't she?

Perhaps, but that was easier said than done.

Once the tea was ready, Rei knelt at the table and looked through the journal. Last night's dream had not seemed threatening--if anything, it had been pleasant. If she thought in any way that the dream signaled danger, she would have gone right to the fire, regardless of what time it was, and then she would have contacted the other Senshi, alerting them all to possible danger and asking Michiru to consult her Deep Aqua Mirror. Even so, while her notes did not suggest any kind of threat, they were very confusing:

_Women. 5-6? Serenity/not Serenity. Serpent--lady--dragon? human? Mirror-lady. Armor/spear--lion of Saint Mark. Mother--crows. Leaves and flowers--"horned god"??? Senshi? Sealing?_

The last note was the word "old," underlined three times with such force that her pencil had torn the paper.

Rei read the words over and over, drumming her fingers viciously on the table. Was it so much to ask, being able to understand what she herself had written down? The more she tried to remember anything concrete, the less sense the notes made. Well, if it was anything important, it would come to her during meditation. She headed off to sit by her fire.

Aided by fatigue, she slipped easily into a meditative state. She dwelled in a state of emptiness for a while, relaxing her mind until neither curiosity nor anxiety nor excitement could distract her. It was crucial that she not try to force her mind to dwell on the images she wanted to remember, and that she just let the images arrive...

... Rei as Sailor Mars walking down a pillared hallway carved from veinless marble. NeoQueen Serenity was waiting for her at the other end. She seemed impossibly tall to Rei, and her hair was much paler than she remembered...

... a waiting room--no, the idea of a waiting room. Anonymous chairs, dark carpet, low tables, and plate glass windows looking out onto absolute darkness. She was both anticipating and dreading the arrival of whoever it was that would come through the door...

... something she couldn't quite see. Darkness with undulating waves moving through it, something alive, waiting, watching, always waiting. Somehow, through the vision, it noticed her, considered her, dismissed her...

... a woman hunched over and screaming, all but obscured by a whirlwind of sakura petals and ice, Rei's own stab of bitter satisfaction rising high above the screams...

... immense trees that formed a living cathedral. There was something or someone there watching, waiting, and perhaps judging. At the far end of the cathedral, a moss-covered hummock of earth formed a crude seat. A man clad all in black sprawled in the seat, clutching a mortal wound in his side. Next to him a crown made of ivory? of wood? of bone? lay shattered on the ground...

... red sandstone walls stretched up to a lavender-blue sky. A voice like the peal of a bronze bell rang across the sky, declaiming a single word. _Harmonia_. Fear. Triumph. Sorrow. Relief. A searing pain in her forehead...

... a drunken leprechaun shrieking at her and poking her in the arm...

Rei awoke with a yelp. Her grandfather was leaning over her, a stern yet affectionate look on his face. "Rei-chan, why don't you go back to bed? It won't hurt for you to miss a day's meditation."

"Grandpa?" Rei touched her forehead. It stung! That pain was no vision or dream. When she lowered her hand, she was not entirely surprised to see ash on her fingertips. The fire was lower than it should have been after only a few minutes' meditation, and one of the logs was sparking violently.

Her grandfather sighed and helped her to her feet. "You fell asleep in front of the fire. I got here just in time. It looked like you were going to topple right in. You didn't even wake up when that spark landed in your bangs."

She stared at the fire. If Grandpa hadn't been there, she would have fallen face-first into the fire. Right into the coals. A host of what-ifs played through her mind, images of herself disfigured, blinded, all of her hair gone...

Her grandpa seemed to sense her distress. "One of the logs was a little green, and it was kind enough to send you a spark to wake you up." He ran a bent, ropy hand through her bangs and across her forehead. "No damage done. The ash is from the fire, not from burnt Rei-chan."

"Grandpa, I'm so sorry. I should never have been so careless as to..." She tried to stifle a yawn. "I haven't fallen asleep while meditating since I was a child! I'm sor--"

"Rei-chan, there's nothing to be sorry about. You're young. You're supposed to go out and have a good time once in a while. Go on, get some sleep. Punishing the body isn't going to do the spirit any good."

"Oh. Okay." Bed was sounding like a good idea. In any event, it was much more appealing than self-recrimination. "Wake me in a couple of hours, would you, please? Good night, Grandpa."

"Good morning, Rei-chan."

* * *

Grandfather Hino watched as his granddaughter shuffled back to bed. Such a strange, serious girl, he thought for perhaps the thousandth time. She was spiritually gifted, that much was clear. It was high time he took a more active role in shaping that gift. If she went into deep meditation with her mind wide open to any passing influence the way it had just been, there was no telling what might happen to slip in through the doors she might innocently leave ajar. Falling asleep in such a state was even riskier--and possibly fatal. The person who awoke from that state might not be the same person who went to sleep.

He glared at the ash on his hand and cursed himself as a coward. It looked like he may have already put things off too long. The ash that landed on her forehead was no random smudge. He felt bad for erasing the mark, but there was no point in Rei accidentally seeing it in a mirror and getting anxious.

He would tell her about it later, of course, once he had a chance to figure out why on earth the shrine's fire would try to brand his granddaughter with the astrological sign for Mars.

* * *

**8:30 a.m.**

Pancakes or sleep? Usagi hoped that would be the biggest dilemma she would face today. So far, sleep was the clear-cut winner. Once the aroma of her mother's banana pancakes made it up to her room, however, all bets were off.

Chibi-Usa was already wide awake, and sitting up in bed so she could see the pink egg and the picture she had drawn of her parents. The two girls, still carried away by the thrill of seeing one another after a whole year, insisted on sleeping in the same room that first night. After they spent their birthday together, however, it was likely that both would be thankful for their separate rooms.

"Do you like your present, Usagi?" Chibi-Usa asked for what must have been the thousandth time.

"Mmm. Love it," Usagi murmured. She was lying on her stomach, and her pillow muffled her voice. "It's a great picture. It's one of the nicest things you've ever given to me." She giggled. "It's one of the only things you've ever given to me."

A pillow whapped her across the back of the head. "That's not true! And you still owe me a birthday present!" shouted Chibi-Usa. Then, a moment later. "You really do like it, don't you."

"Of course." Usagi rolled over and slid up in bed so she could lean back against her headboard. "It was nice of your... of me... to frame it. I almost wish it wasn't so fancy, though."

Chibi-Usa gave her a puzzled look. "I thought you liked jewelry and fancy things."

"Oh, I do, but I think Mom and Dad would wonder how you could afford a solid gold picture frame. It's too bad, because I'd love to show them your picture."

The frame was gorgeous, and the egg... gorgeous didn't even begin to describe it. How on earth could she show her parents a gift that looked like it had been stolen from a museum? What had her future self been thinking? As an experiment, Usagi squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. _I will remember to use a wooden frame. I will remember to use a wooden frame._

She opened her eyes. The frame was still gold. So much for writing mental notes to her future self. Maybe she really _couldn't_ change the future. It was all set in solid gold and written down in crayon. The smiles of the couple in Chibi-Usa's picture mocked her from across the room.

"Usagi, are you all right?" asked Chibi-Usa.

"Oh, just forget about it, squirt. I'm about ready for breakfast, what about you?"

As if on cue, the strains of "Happy Birthday" wafted into the room along with the aroma of banana pancakes. Usagi and Chibi-Usa stared at each other in surprise, then delight, swiftly followed by horror. Usagi jumped out of bed, nearly tumbling headlong as her feet caught in the blankets. She looked around wildly, her ponytails flying. The singing grew even louder. She tossed a used handkerchief over the egg, but that didn't hide it completely. After a moment's frantic thought, she swept together a pile of manga from the floor and plopped them in front of the egg and the picture. Once she slid her radio a little to the right, the two objects were hidden from view.

Ikuko-mama shouldered the door open. She was carrying a breakfast tray and singing just a little bit off-key. "Happy birthday, girls," she said once the song was over. Then she looked at Usagi who was still standing there with her hand on the radio and a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face.

"Dear, I know that I've been after you to tidy up in here, but you shouldn't be cleaning your room on your birthday!" She put the tray down on the desk and gave Usagi a kiss on the cheek. "Still, it is sweet of you."

She went over to the bed and gave Chibi-Usa a long hug. "And happy birthday to you too, sweetie," she said, her voice muffled by Chibi-Usa's hair. "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to see you last night, but I just couldn't stay awake." Ikuko backed off from the hug just a little, gazing at Chibi-Usa the way Mamoru had just the other day. "Mako-chan said you'd grown, but I had no idea! Stand up and turn around for me, dear. Would you?"

Chibi-Usa obediently stood up and executed a wobbly pirouette. Her cheeks were nearly as pink as her hair.

Ikuko shook her head in wonder. "I can never get over how fast you children grow up. In just a couple of years you'll be as tall as Usagi."

Both Usagi and Chibi-Usa struggled not to laugh. Chibi-Usa had been waiting for this growth spurt for nearly nine hundred years.

"How long did you know about this, Mom?" asked Usagi. "I had no clue that Chibi-Usa was planning to come back in time! Uh, in time for my birthday, I mean."

Chibi-Usa rolled her eyes, and Usagi shook a fist at her, careful not to let her mother see.

"Mako-chan and Minako-chan told me about it just a couple of weeks ago. I was so excited when they told me you were coming to visit!"

"I'm sorry I didn't call you myself, but I was afraid that Usagi might overhear. She's such a snoop, isn't she Ikuko-mama?"

"I am not! I just have very good hearing, that's all," Usagi huffed.

Ikuko had a plate of pancakes for each girl, plus a bowl of miso soup for herself. "It's just us girls this morning," she said. "Go ahead and get started, and then you can tell me all about the party last night."

While she waited for Chibi-Usa to hand her the syrup, Usagi once again wondered how Luna-P was able to convince her parents to accept Chibi-Usa in their lives. Chibi-Usa herself said that she didn't know exactly how it worked, but it allowed Ikuko, Kenji, and Shingo to accept her as family whenever she entered their time, and to conveniently forget about her whenever she returned to her own. As she contemplated this for all of ten seconds, something in the back of her mind (metaphorically) started jumping up and down and waving frantically, trying to call her attention to something or other. It almost worked, but just as a (metaphorical) light bulb was about to go off in Usagi's head, Chibi-Usa finished with the syrup and Usagi's attention was consumed by the pancakes, which were then consumed by her.

In between huge bites of pancake, Usagi and Chibi-Usa recounted the events of last night's party. Most of the talk centered on the presents and the food. Chibi-Usa showed off all of the cute clothes she had gotten, and wheedled Ikuko into going with her to exchange them for larger sizes. Ikuko thought that the idea of the "get Usagi into college" gifts was sweet, but the only gift she openly admired was the salon gift certificate.

What really impressed her were the presents that Usagi had received from the Outer Senshi. Usagi encouraged her to try on the sakura-petal scarf. It looked stunning with Ikuko's violet hair, and Usagi told her so.

"You can borrow it anytime you want, Mom," she said.

"Isn't it usually the daughter who borrows clothes from the mother?" Ikuko asked jokingly. "I have to say that your friends have excellent taste. Those earrings you got from Haruka-san are exquisite! I don't even want to think about what they must have cost."

The Shiseido cosmetics were impressive, but Ikuko was more interested in the giver than the gift. "I still can't believe that you know Kaiou Michiru! And you usually think of classical musicians somehow being, I don't know, distant somehow, but Kaiou-san really is the sweetest girl. How did you ever meet her, anyway?"

"I met Michiru when we all went to visit another school." There was no need to mention that they were sneaking onto the MugenAcademy campus at the time. "After that, we kept on running into her and Haruka," and getting smacked around with World Shakings and Deep Submerges, but that would take too long to explain, "and after a while we ended up becoming good friends." Going through the end of the world together did tend to draw people closer.

"Everyone should have at least one interesting friend," said Ikuko.

"Do you have any interesting friends, Ikuko-mama?"

"Chibi-Usa!" exclaimed Usagi.

"I'm not _that_ boring, Chibi-Usa-chan! I do have one friend that you could call interesting, but I haven't spoken to her in nearly a year. She's always so busy! Anyway, I keep meaning to give her a call. You've met her before, Usagi, but it's probably been over ten years since you've seen her." The grin on Ikuko's face was slyer than any Usagi had ever seen there before. The grin slipped a little as Ikuko seemed to remember something. "There's an interesting story she could tell you about me," she said softly.

"Really? Does she have any pictures of you wearing ugly clothes from the seventies?"

"Ha! You wish. Actually, the story involves you, too, Usagi." Ikuko stood up. "Are you girls almost finished with breakfast? I need to go downstairs and make sure that your father and brother can get something to eat before we leave for the amusement park."

"Where are Dad and Shingo, anyway?" asked Usagi. Her father was always up early and it wasn't like Shingo to miss food.

"Your father has to pick up the car from the mechanic. It's a good thing we got it in there before the brakes went for good. He'll be back in a little while. Shingo's still asleep, if you can believe it."

"Hey! How come you don't get on his case the way you did with me?"

"I do 'get on his case,' as you put it, on school days. You taught me that trying to wake a fifteen-year-old on a Saturday morning is an exercise in futility. Even if he does get up, he wouldn't have a civil word for anyone."

"Are you saying you're grateful I was a pain?"

Ikuko reached out and ruffled Usagi's bangs. "Oh, you were never a pain, sweetheart. Just very, very hard to wake up. We'll have to wake him soon, though, if we want to get to the amusement park before it gets crowded."

"Can I call Hotaru, and see if she can come along, too?" asked Chibi-Usa.

Ikuko demurred, and Usagi suspected that she was hoping not to have to share Chibi-Usa's company quite so much quite so soon. Eventually she agreed to the request, but with one stipulation: "If Haruka and Michiru say it's all right, then Hotaru can come with us if she wants."

Usagi did not know that a person's jaw could actually drop in surprise. It was a good thing that Chibi-Usa's mouth was not full, otherwise Usagi might have witnessed her very first live, in-person spit-take.

Usagi tried to hold in a laugh, but it came out as a snort. Chibi-Usa had missed all of the drama when the rest of the Tsukino household finally figured out the truth about Hotaru's unusual living arrangements and foster parents. Even now, Shingo couldn't look Haruka in the eye without his face turning as red as a boiled ham.

Chibi-Usa's expression changed from surprise to confusion, and Ikuko's hand flew to her mouth in alarm. "You... you do know that Haruka is a girl, don't you?"

Usagi flopped over on her stomach, laughing hysterically and pounding her first into the mattress, and Ikuko grew even more alarmed.

"Oh, dear. Was I not supposed to say anything? I thought they were, well... 'out'. They still use that term, don't they?"

"It's okay, Mom," said Usagi, wiping tears from her eyes. "You didn't say anything wrong. It's just... oh, if you could have seen your faces!"

"You should have seen your _father's_ face when he finally realized that Haruka wasn't a boy. I honestly thought he was going to have a coronary." Ikuko sat back down on the bed with the two girls. "It is rather an... unconventional living situation, and one I'm not sure if I'd approve of, if I didn't think so highly of them." She ran a hand down one of Usagi's ponytails, smoothing it a little. "I have to say, your father and I weren't sure about those two at first, but we trust you--and your friends. Also, I suppose they are unusually mature for their age, and Hotaru seems happy enough."

Chibi-Usa was now the one to look anxious and a little unhappy. After a little prodding, she finally confessed what was on her mind.

"I don't know what's wrong, but last night Haruka and Hotaru were acting like they didn't even _like_ each other. They even started to get into an argument out on Mako-chan's porch."

In the privacy of her mind, Usagi uttered a few choice curse words. She was hoping that Chibi-Usa hadn't picked up on the tension that had built up during her absence.

"I wouldn't let it worry you, Chibi-Usa-chan," said Ikuko. "Let's just say that I know from personal experience how moody, exasperating, demanding, and immature girls in their early teens can be."

Usagi noticed the mischievous twinkle in her mother's eye, and only pretended to swat her with a pillow.

"I don't remember much about being that age," Ikuko continued, "but I do remember wanting so badly to be a grown-up and for my parents to take me seriously and to let me show them that I _was_ a grown-up." Usagi nodded in agreement, and Chibi-Usa started to relax.

"As a parent, there's a part of you that bursts with pride every time your baby takes another big step forward, but there's another part that dies inside because each step takes her a little further away from you. It's even harder when you know that they're making a mistake and that they won't believe you until they find out for themselves. You want your babies to stay babies forever, but you have to let them go and let them grow, if they're going to be truly happy."

"So," said Usagi, "I guess that means that you and Dad are perfectly okay with me marrying Mamo-chan." She batted her eyes. "After all, you were the one that said that you have to let your baby go, right? And you did say that you wanted me to be happy."

Ikuko fought back a smile. "Actually, just forget I said anything. Your father and I have decided that locking you in the attic until you're forty makes much more sense." Ikuko got up and put the dishes on the tray. "Sweetie, Mamoru-kun is a wonderful young man, and we do trust you to make the right decision. We just want to make sure that you've had enough time and experience for you to be sure that this _is_ the right decision for you."

She paused on her way out of the room and turned to face her daughter. "Of course, if it does look like you're about to make the wrong decision, there's always the attic," she said brightly. She then swept out of the room, cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West.

Even as she laughed and shooed Chibi-Usa off to go call Hotaru, Usagi boggled at how much had changed over the last few years. Back in middle school, it was hard to think of her mom as anything but the purple-haired witch that constantly nagged at her for bringing home bad grades, or wasting her allowance at the arcade, or for oversleeping. She had never imagined a day when she and her mom would talk about clothes and makeup (and boys!) or be able to tease each other like girlfriends.

Maybe, just maybe, she could tell her mom about her other life. Maybe she would understand. After all, she was almost willing to accept the idea that two young women could be the foster parents of a fourteen year old girl.

Some things, though, were far more difficult to accept. Usagi was still not certain that she accepted this destiny that had landed so heavily on her. It was especially difficult after her battle with Galaxia. Even now, a year later, she still felt like throwing up whenever she thought about the Galaxy Cauldron and what she'd learned about the loneliness and sorrow that lurked in her future, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

_It's like watching a horror movie_, she thought. _You know there's something nasty in the woodshed, but the characters go in there anyway. You know that they're going to die, and you know it's going to be horrible, but you can't do anything to stop it. You know what's going to happen, but you don't know when and you don't know how._

Usagi hated horror movies.

She hugged herself tightly and allowed her face to twist in pain. I can avoid this fate, she thought. If I know what's going to happen, then I know what I can do to change things. Everything is going to work out just fine. I know it. I am _not_ going to cry. It's my birthday and I am not going to cry and I am not going to think about that stupid, _stupid_ picture frame, and why oh why didn't it turn to wood? I _know_ I can change the future! I can!

After a few moments' release, Usagi sat up straight, shook the tension out of her arms and shoulders, and went to get dressed. There was all day today to look forward to, after all, and she was determined to enjoy every last bit of it.

* * *

**9:15 a.m.**

"Keisuke! Do med students have classes on Saturday?"

Keisuke did not even glance up from his computer screen as a bleary-eyed Taiyouko stormed past his desk on her way to the vending machines. "Good morning, Seidou-san. I already called the registrar at Keiou. The recording says they don't open again until eight o' clock Monday morning."

Taiyouko put her coins in the machine, then gave it the extra thump required for it to release a can of coffee. She then went and sat on the edge of her desk, which was set head-to-head with Keisuke's. A stack of papers slid to the floor. Taiyouko ignored them.

"I tried that too. I wanted to know if it was worth my while stopping by the campus and trying to catch him." She popped open the can of coffee. "You've had a chance to read through the file, then?"

Keisuke nodded. He had worked with Taiyouko for several years and they could each read the other well enough to know what was meant by a certain question or statement, to follow the other's logic, and to call the other one a damned idiot when appropriate (although Keisuke would have left out the "damned.") They also knew each other well enough that Taiyouko did not have to explain how important this case was to her.

"How do we handle things if another case comes up?"

"We work two cases," said Taiyouko, "and hope that the prosecuting attorneys don't ask us for anything else on the Seta and Aoshima cases." She'd juggled as many as four at one time, and never complained once about the workload. "I don't know why, but I'm not comfortable with letting this case sit any longer than we have to. So, if our murderers continue this seeming trend of taking the summer off, we may as well blow through as many leads as we can find. Check the phone books if you haven't already for this Chiba Mamoru."

"Done, and sorry. We'll have to wait for Monday, unless a computer search through unlisted numbers turns something up. I already ordered the report from NTT, in case you were wondering."

Taiyouko continued to sit on the edge of her desk as she guzzled her coffee, seemingly unaware of the furtive glances of the other detectives, each in his conservative suit and tie. As a concession to dress code, Taiyouko was wearing a beige linen pantsuit, but even though she had taken it fresh from the cleaner's bag that morning, it already looked as if it had been slept in. By early afternoon, it would look as if it had been slept in by a family of hyperactive ferrets.

"I'm hoping it's just an unlisted number. If he's subletting from someone, we'll have to wait, and that could be a problem. Monday we have those Americans coming in, remember? I'll probably have to spend all my time keeping some testosterone-poisoned NYPD Blue from gunning down jaywalkers." She tipped the can to get the last drops of caffeine. "I'm wishing I hadn't agreed to participate."

Keisuke shrugged. "Things have been slow. How were you to know that Harada-san would hand you this case?" He flipped through the pictures from the crime scene, wincing as he saw the photographs of the child. Keisuke had four children of his own, and Taiyouko would have bet good money that he was seeing other faces superimposed over the one in the pictures.

"Are you thinking this was a professional hit? Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide the identities of these people."

Taiyouko shook her head. If it were a pro, they could simply look through the lists of "usual suspects." She lobbed the empty can across the office, where it clattered into a metal trash can, startling one of the office ladies.

"Sorry about that!" she called. "I'd be surprised if it was professionals," she said to Keisuke. "If it were a pro, there probably would have been some rumblings in one of the syndicates at the time. The real pros wouldn't balk at killing a kid, either. For all they knew, Mystery Boy might have woken up after a few days in the ICU and started naming names, or at least giving some fair descriptions."

"Didn't you say you thought this was connected to another case?"

Taiyouko glared at her partner. "I was practically a rookie," she said. "I didn't know from shit back then." She flicked her eyes towards the other people in the room, who were doing their best to look as if they were not eavesdropping. "Later," she mouthed.

One of the interns approached the desk. She was immaculately but not prettily groomed. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was freshly trimmed, her makeup safely neutral, and her navy blue blazer and knee-length skirt were the kind guaranteed to be appropriate for any occasion from a wedding to a funeral. The black shoes were a little clunky, a less-than-perfect compromise between fashion and being able to walk. She stood with her eyes down, waiting for Taiyouko to initiate the conversation.

I used to act like that, thought Taiyouko. Am I ever glad I don't have to put up with that crap any more.

She got to her feet. "Mishima-kun, is it?" she asked. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes," said the girl. "Mishima Saori. I--I'm in the criminal justice program at Keiou..."

Taiyouko raised an eyebrow, acting surprised even though she already knew Saori's transcript and application by heart. "Good program. It says a lot about you that you got in."

Rather than the expected blush, Taiyouko saw a flash of triumphant pride in the blue-green eyes. A good sign, that. "Yes ma'am. Thank you. I apologize for interrupting you, but I... I just wanted to say that I hope to have the chance to work with you while I'm here." The sentence, begun with confidence, ended in a sudden rush of words. "I'm sorry to act like some fan-girl, but it's wonderful to see a woman who's come so far in... in this profession."

Keisuke coughed discreetly. "Well," said Taiyouko dryly, "I hope you're looking for professional inspiration, not personal inspiration. Of course, I'm a pretty good object lesson in what _not_ to do. By the way, Saori-kun, whenever someone flatters you, assume that they want something. It's a valuable lesson."

Saori blinked, as if unsure if she was being teased, rebuked, or given some sort of cryptic advice.

There was an awkward moment as Taiyouko waited for Saori to fill the silence. She didn't. "If you want to work with me," Taiyouko continued, "be forewarned that my reputation for being a total bitch is not exaggerated." She allowed a smile to peek out. "I've got to baby-sit one of these idiot Americans we have coming in next week, but I'll see if I can set aside some time to talk with you while you're doing your internship."

"Thank you, Seidou-san." Saori bowed. "I would be honored."

"Was there anything else?"

"Pardon?"

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? I'm not particularly busy right now." Taiyouko spread her arms wide open to illustrate her generosity. She also kept her face unreadable as Saori fidgeted and smiled just a little too cheerfully.

"N-no. Nothing else. Thank you for your time, Seidou-san."

"She's got a lousy poker face," muttered Taiyouko as the girl retreated, "but she's no dummy. It'll be interesting to see where she winds up a few years from now."

"Well, that was interesting," said Keisuke. "Where do I sign up for your new fan club? Do I get a little badge?"

"Heaven help anyone who holds _me_ up as some sort of idol. I was wondering when she'd walk by here."

Keisuke rolled his eyes. "You're going to make me ask how you knew that, aren't you?"

"Ooh! Two sarcastic remarks in a row from Detective Takamori! Guess I'm finally getting to you, huh?" Instead of sitting back down on the desk she finally settled into her chair. "All I meant is that if Mishima-kun is in the intern program, she's probably a third-year student, just like a certain someone else." There was no need for her to remind him that Mishima Saori attended Keiou. "Mishima-kun strikes me as one who keeps her ear to the ground, and I've seen her take a glance at what's on top of people's desks when she thinks they're not looking."

"Ambitious girl."

"Ambition's what they're calling it these days? Anyway, I'll bet you a cheap lunch that she knows our Chiba Mamoru, and she came over here to tell me but chickened out at the last second."

"No doubt she was too much in awe of your inspiring presence."

"Shove it, Keisuke. Let me know if anything turns up among the unlisted numbers."

In the meantime, there were other things she could do to move them forward on the case. Taiyouko dug out a battered road atlas from the bottom of her file drawer. Unless someone had cut the brake line while the car was sitting at a restaurant or gas station, chances were that the couple had lived somewhere near the site of the accident. Maybe they had neighbors. It was time to start pavement-pounding. It wasn't glamorous, it wasn't exciting, but given enough time and shoe leather, it produced results. The first time around, she had only just begun canvassing the area when the case was closed. Maybe she could enlist Mishima-kun to help.

Actually, that would be a very good idea. From the look on the girl's face right before she switched over to suck-up-to-the-mentor mode, she had recalled something that had made it seem like a _very bad_ idea to pass any information along to Taiyouko. Was it something as innocent as not wanting to sell out a friend to the police, or was there something more? Taiyouko decided not to do anything about it--yet. She'd have a better idea of what was going on once she finally met Mystery Boy face to face.

* * *

Harada Kenichi looked through the slats of his office blinds while he waited for his caller to take him off hold. Detective Seidou was sitting on her desk--again--although he had politely suggested several times that it was not decorous. She merely agreed with him, then continued to go about things in her own way, as usual. He saw that Takamori Keisuke was looking through the case file. One of the interns walked up to ask Detective Seidou a question. Oh, good. Seidou finally got up off her desk.

His caller came back on the line. "My apologies, Harada-san, but there was a crisis that required my immediate attention."

His voice left no doubt that this crisis completely justified leaving the commander of the Tokyo police's homicide division on hold for fifteen minutes.

"No need to apologize, sir. When you were called away, I was just explaining that I had no trouble reopening the case as you had asked. I also passed along the information on Chiba Mamoru that you provided."

"Good. Who will be handling the case?"

"Detective Seidou Taiyouko." Harada headed off any objections before they could be voiced. "I realize she has a reputation for being difficult, but she has an otherwise perfect clearance record, and does everything exactly by the book. Her actions may be a bit unorthodox, but Internal Affairs has never had any reason to go after her."

He did not add that I.A. would jump at the chance to go after the obnoxious and arrogant little detective who had stepped on a few too many toes, and who treated all suspects with the same vitriolic contempt, regardless if they were street-thugs, sweet little old shopkeepers, or well-connected politicians. He also did not add that Taiyouko's method of 'playing by the book' had led to a constant revising of 'the book' to plug up a galaxy of loopholes and exceptions whose existence no one had even suspected before. No one other than Detective Seidou, that is.

Out in the office, he could see one of his senior detectives beckon one of the office ladies to his desk, even though she had both hands full of papers from the copier. Seidou's strident voice carried through the glass as she told the detective to get off his fat, lazy ass and get his own damn coffee.

"I've heard of Detective Seidou." The caller laughed. "Do you remember that one street interview they televised? I would swear that every fourth word was censored. I'm actually pleased that you assigned such a... vivid personality to the case. It will attract the kind of attention we want. It also helps that she has such a good record. And speaking of which, what do you mean by _otherwise_ perfect?"

Harada winced. He hadn't realized he'd made that slip. "She was the primary on the case when it was first opened," he admitted. "I thought she would be eager for the second chance, and maybe not as likely as others might be to question why the case was being re-opened." He took a deep breath. "She's handled some... very sensitive cases without letting any information get out to the media." Heaven help us if she ever decides to write a book, he thought. Most Japanese were still under the impression that serial killers were primarily a western or safely fictional phenomenon. "Given what I know of the way she thinks, she probably feels I've given her some sort of reward."

There was a long pause on the other end. "I see."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, but it's good that we know of it now. I just hope she doesn't make too much of a fuss when we ask you to take the case from her again."

"Sir?"

"Don't worry about it, Harada-san. Give her free rein, give her any help she asks for, but not so much that anyone might comment. We'll let you know when it's time to shut her down. We need her to draw attention, but at a certain point it may become a liability."

Harada sighed. "I understand, sir." He didn't though, not really. These politicians (the word was uttered like a curse in his mind) played too many games. Unfortunately, it was necessary to do his share of playing if he ever hoped to become Chief of Police.

They had never asked him to do anything *wrong*, Harada told himself. Opening a cold case certainly wasn't wrong. It may even bring a sense of closure to a grieving family. And, if the case was so old, it would hardly be a surprise to anyone if it were to be declared unsolvable and closed down once again.

"I'm glad you do, Harada-san." The cool voice, which always sounded so confident and serene when delivering a public address, had taken on a strained exactness. "One of my colleagues recently informed me that I have something of a personal stake in all of this, so I will be watching Detective Seidou's progress very closely. I will call you back if there is anything else you need to know. Good day, Harada-san."

* * *

**6:25 p.m.**

Many things had changed for Chiba Mamoru over the last three and a half years. The dreams of a mysterious princess that had haunted him for years without reason had gone away, only to be replaced by a reality far stranger and far more wonderful than he could have ever hoped for.

He could summon roses with a single thought and use them as throwing darts that could punch through metal and would negate almost any magic. He could heal others with a mere touch, not as well as Hotaru, perhaps, but if he could combine that power with his medical training, there would be much he could do. And if Asanuma's theory was correct, he could even bring a sort of spiritual healing or blessing.

Then, of course, he had died and been resurrected not just once, but twice. He could sense the health of the earth and sometimes even the history of an object by just touching it. He had befriended a floral alien and a winged unicorn, traveled to Elysion--the strange spiritual world that mirrored and sustained this world--and discovered that he carried within himself the golden crystal that marked him as rightful king of this earth.

It would be nice if someone could tell him what that all _meant_. In comparison to Sailor Moon and the other Senshi, he felt like the odd man out. Literally.

It wasn't that bad, he reminded himself. He'd grown accustomed to being isolated, disconnected, rootless. His past life--his past lives, really--remained a blank to him. That had plagued him for years. He moved from orphanage to foster home to boarding school, a paper trail serving as a poor substitute for a family history. Even the paper trail was little good, coming to an abrupt end when he tried to follow it back before his eighth birthday.

Assuming, that is, that what he thought of his birthday really was his birthday. He didn't even know the name he'd been given when he was born.

In the past three years, however, he had learned to let go of a past he had never known. During that time a kind of family had grown up around him.

A row of framed photographs on his bookshelf bore testimony to that fact. Some were of the other Senshi in civilian form--a picture of Haruka in her racing jumpsuit, a professional portrait of Michiru with her violin. Setsuna had given him a photo taken of her and Hotaru when Hotaru was still a pudgy toddler.

The other picture he had of Hotaru was from the last time Chibi-Usa was here, and the two of them were wearing brightly flowered sun hats and mugging outrageously for the camera. It was amazing how much they'd grown since then. He was more grateful than ever that he'd begged the photo off of Ikuko-san. He had two other photographs of Chibi-Usa, and each time he saw them, he was amazed anew at the fearful and protective love he felt for his future daughter.

He had another picture of the entire Tsukino family, and one of Usa-ko, Makoto, Rei, Ami, and Minako dressed up for a school dance. Even though she did not attend their school, Rei had dressed up to be in the picture with her best friends. He was closer to some of Usa-ko's friends than he was to the others. Minako he did not know very well at all, and he found it hard to reconcile her flighty, boy-crazy attitude with her professionalism as leader of Usa-ko's guardian soldiers. To be honest, he still found Rei more than a little intimidating. Out of the four, he was probably closest to Ami and Makoto. He and Ami sometimes got into marathon phone sessions about what he was studying in med school and some of the things she was hoping to study. As of last week, she was fairly certain she wanted to concentrate on pediatric neurology. The week before that, it was geriatric oncology.

Makoto, his fellow orphan, had appointed herself as a sort of little sister. She'd chewed him out more than once when she thought he was being a jerk or an idiot, and made sure he didn't forget things like Usa-ko's birthday, Valentine's Day, their three month anniversary, Groundhog Day, etc. Lately she'd embarked upon a Keep Mamoru Fed campaign in collusion with Ikuko-san. Given how well the two women cooked, he was hardly about to complain.

Of course, there were many pictures of Usa-ko. For a long time, he had refused to keep anything of a sentimental nature around. Nothing in his life had ever been permanent, so what was the point? Finally, he had been able to admit that he now had something in his life that was as stable as the earth itself. He was no longer afraid to admit to himself how much she mattered to him.

There was a formal school portrait of Usa-ko in her uniform. Then there was a glamour shot from when she and Minako had gone to some photography studio at Harajuku. The dress, the soft focus, and the hazy lighting made her look uncannily like the princess in his old dreams. His favorite, however, was a picture of Usa-ko with her mouth open for a huge spoonful of banana-split and an oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-you're-going-to-take-this-picture-and-you-are-so-dead-if-you-do look on her face. It had been worth getting the glob of whipped cream ground into his hair.

He was mildly surprised when the doorbell rang. It wouldn't be Usa-ko or any of the others. They knew that he would be leaving his apartment in a few minutes to take Usa-ko out for her birthday dinner.

He was even more surprised when he saw who it was. "Saori-san! What are you doing here?" He winced. That was no way to greet an old friend. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out the way it did. You were just, um, unexpected, that's all."

She looked him up and down, as if making note of the untied tie and the unbuttoned cuffs of his dress shirt. "I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time, Mamoru-kun, but I need to talk to you."

The determined set of her face told him that she would not be leaving until she had had her say. He had a nasty feeling he knew what she wanted to talk about.

"Come on in, then. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you." She sat down on the sofa, and Mamoru made a point of sitting across from her, not next to her. Even though she was theoretically dating someone, he often suspected that Saori still wished he and she were more than just friends. Every now and then he caught her staring at him, and sometimes he thought he could see a deep sadness in her eyes.

"I've hardly seen you since classes started this spring," he said. "I'd love to catch up, but I've only got a few minutes. I have to leave here in a few minutes to pick up Usagi."

"Your girlfriend?" asked Saori. "I met her once. Doesn't her sister have pink hair?"

"Actually, Usagi and I are engaged now," he said, carefully watching her reaction. Saori had met Usagi while they were in the middle of all that craziness with Neherenia's circus freaks. In fact, Saori had herself been a victim of one of the bizarre animal men.

"Congratulations!" she exclaimed, and the smile on her face was wide and genuine. "When are you getting married?"

"We... we haven't set a date yet," he admitted. He noted ruefully that his ego was a little bit stung by Saori's lack of disappointment. Maybe he had misjudged her.

Saori did not speak for a moment or two. Rather, she stared at him with a blank expression on her face. He was just about to ask her what was wrong when she took a deep breath. "This isn't easy for me, Mamoru-kun, and I probably shouldn't be telling you this."

Telling him what? No matter what, Saori was always unfailingly polite. What could be so important that she would insist on him hearing her out?

"First of all," she said, "I need you to know that no matter what, you can trust me, that you can trust me absolutely."

He leaned forward. "Saori-san, what is this all about?"

She went straight to the point. "I know that Usagi-san is Sailor Moon."

Mamoru's stomach just about dropped through to the floor. "What? Saori-san, I don't know what--"

She laughed bitterly and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Please don't pretend that you don't know. You were there when that weird man with the leather fetish pulled some sort of... mirror... out of my chest, nailed _you_ to the ground with throwing knives, and summoned that balloon-thing to crush us to death." She shook her head. "You have interesting taste in enemies."

"But..."

"Anyhow," she continued, "Sailor Moon showed up and when that balloon-thing tried to suffocate her, you called her 'Usa-ko.' Sloppy. Very sloppy."

Mamoru groaned and let his head sink into his hands.

"I told you this because I need you to know that I can keep a secret," she said. "I haven't told anyone else, and I _won't_ tell anyone else."

"Damn it, Saori-san! Then what _do_ you want? So you know about Usa-ko. What do you want from me?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm some sort of extortionist!" she snapped. "I came here because I... I think of you as a good friend and right now it looks like you might be in a whole lot of trouble!"

What? Maybe this was some sort of dream. "Why would you think I'm in trouble?" he asked warily. If she knew about Sailor Moon, it wouldn't be that big of a mental leap to connect him to Tuxedo Kamen.

She sighed. "I was granted an internship with the Tokyo police as part of my degree in criminal justice. I'm working in the homicide unit. Homicide, Mamoru-kun."

He stared, not trusting himself to speak.

"Your name came up in the context of an investigation," she said as if reciting a dictionary entry.

"I--I don't understand," he whispered. "Why would I... Why would anyone suspect..."

"I don't even know if you were mentioned as a suspect, or as a witness, or something else altogether!" she cried, losing her cool again. "Maybe it has something to do with one of your professors. All I know is that I saw your name on what looked like a transcript from the University."

"My transcript?" He wasn't even going to try to make sense of this any more.

"And you're sure you don't know anything about any of this?"

"Of course I don't know anything!" he shouted. "I don't know why the homicide department would have a copy of my transcript! I don't even know of anyone who's died recently!"

Saori licked her lips. When she asked her next question, she would not even meet his eyes. "Is it possible that this could have anything to do with the Sailor Senshi?"

Mamoru rose to his feet in a surge of anger. "No! Of course not! Now if you're finished, Mishima-san, I think that perhaps you had better leave."

Saori stood up slowly. Her face looked calm, yet sad. "I didn't mean to offend you," she said. "I didn't mean to imply that I thought the Senshi could ever do anything criminal. It's just that the detective whose case it is... well, she's this frumpy little thing who looks like she could be someone's kindergarten teacher, but she's good. _Really_ good. She's the best detective on the force, though nobody wants to admit it. There's something about the way she looks at you, that you know that whatever it is you're hiding, she's going to find out or make your life a living hell trying, and that if you _have_ done something wrong, she'll make your life a living hell on general principle."

Something that Saori was not saying made its way to the front of Mamoru's mind.

"So that's why you came here to warn me. You're afraid that she might find out that Usa-ko..." he let his voice trail off. Just the idea of the police knowing the identities of the Sailor Senshi turned his stomach. Minako had hundreds of stories about the trouble she had with the police as Sailor V, each tale funnier and more outrageous than the last. Right now, they didn't seem all that funny anymore.

So far, Saori had not said anything about Tuxedo Kamen, which was a small, cold comfort.

"Even if this case has nothing to do with the Sailor Moon or the other Senshi, this woman has a way of finding things out. Her name is Seidou Taiyouko," she said, "and I wouldn't be surprised if she called you, or stopped by unannounced, or even pulled you out of class one day. She usually works with another detective named Takamori Keisuke. I don't know much about him other than that he's always very polite when he talks to me."

"Should I warn Usa-ko?"

Saori thought for a moment, then nodded. "I don't know whether or not you know any of the other Senshi, and I don't want to know if you do, but _if_ you do, you may want to tell them to steer clear of you for a little while so they don't get caught up in this by accident. Listen, Mamoru-kun. I... you're a good friend, and I honestly want you and Usagi-san to be happy together. If I can, I'll let you know if Detective Seidou starts asking questions about Sailor Moon or any of the others."

"Thank you," Mamoru finally managed to say. He was trying to tie his necktie, but his hands were shaking too badly.

"Here," she said, as she pushed his hands aside. "I have to do this for Kobayashi all the time." Before he could protest, she had tied a perfect Windsor knot. "You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you when we were freshmen. I had even bought you a tie that I planned to give you as a gift when I confessed my undying love."

He laughed, although his stomach was still churning. "I think I remember you giving Kobayashi a rather nice necktie the summer of that year."

"Don't tell him, okay?" She adjusted the tie and patted it gently. "This way, we'll each be keeping a deep, dark secret for the other. And listen, I'm sorry I had to tell you about this before your big date, but you don't know this woman. She doesn't do things by halves."

He held the door for her. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you, Saori-san. You've always been a good friend. I'll tell Usa-ko you said hello."

"Oh!" she exclaimed in mock horror, "Are you going to tell your fiancee that you were alone in your apartment with another woman?" The flash of mischief faded into cold sobriety. "Seriously, though. Tell her what I told you. I meant it when I said I want the best for you both. Goodbye, Mamoru-kun."

"Goodbye, Saori-san. And thank you."

He closed the door, and leaned forward until his forehead thunked gently against the door. Was it too much to ask for just one lousy year to go by without their lives being turned upside down? He would have to tell Usa-ko about this, but it wouldn't be tonight. For just one night, her birthday night, the two of them could pretend that they were just like any other young couple in love. It wasn't much, but it would have to be enough.

* * *

**9:10 p.m.**

The Air Canada flight landed on time. For some reason, however, they could not taxi to their gate right away. The captain said something about a mechanical problem, but he had all the sincerity of the recording telling you that the white zones were for loading and unloading only.

So it was that Jason Wright had to sit captive on the hated airplane for an extra hour. He had taken an aisle seat so he could walk around during the excruciatingly long flight, but now one of the flight attendants told him that since they were on the ground, he had to stay in his seat until the plane was at the gate and had come to a complete stop.

The older lady with the window seat grew tired of staring out at the runway. "First time in Tokyo, hon?" she asked.

"No." What time was it back in Baltimore? Eight? His brother Josh was probably out fishing, but he could leave a message to let him know he'd gotten in safely and leave a number where he could be reached. Mom would probably be home unless she was out hitting the yard sales again. He would have to remember to get a phone card so the hotel wouldn't gouge him on the long distance. Also, once he got to his host family's place, he didn't want to rack up their phone bill by calling to check on the dog.

"I was here a long, long time ago--back in the sixties," the woman continued. "I wonder how much things have changed."

"I was wondering the same thing," said Jason. "I wish we had a better view from here."

It was hard to see anything through the window since it was dark outside and the cabin lights were on. All he could see were the lights lining the runways and the shimmer of reflected light on Tokyo Bay. It was the same view he'd had when he left Japan the last time. Not exactly the thing that memories should be made of.

"Well, there's always tomorrow," said the woman. She had crocheted through most of the flight, but she ran out of yarn shortly after they had landed, right around the time that Jason finished the so-so spy thriller he'd picked up in Toronto. "Are you here on vacation?"

Jason wiggled his hand to indicate that this was only partly the case. He didn't really feel like talking, but this desultory chit-chat helped to pass the time. "I'm hoping to pad out my trip with some personal time. Maybe look up some old friends, that kind of thing. What about you?"

"Oh, my husband's here on business, and we decided that I'd come out here and we'd travel around for a month. Sometimes you just need to get away for a while."

"I know what you mean." It wasn't too late, he thought. He could just go through the program and keep a low profile. No one had to know he was here. He could just turn around and go back to Baltimore as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sure your friends will be delighted to see you again. Do they know you're here?"

"No, since I'm not sure I'll have time to see them. Heck, I don't even have a current address for any of them."

Laying low would be easy. But was he willing to live with that many unanswered questions for the rest of his life? On the other hand, if the answers were what he feared, could he live with them?

The plane lurched forwards as the captain announced over the intercom that they could finally go to the gate.

"I'd better pack up, I suppose," said the woman. Her crochet paraphernalia was still spread out on her lap. She put away her yarn, the stack of squares she had made during the flight, her tape measure, and... "Do you see my crochet hook anywhere?"

He looked around. "Is it sort of a browny-orange colored thing? I think it fell down between the seat cushions. Let me see if I can get it."

"Oh, you'll never get your hand down there…don't worry about it, I've got a spare in my luggage."

Jason looked up with a smile and handed her the hook. "Ta-daa!"

The woman grinned back. "I swear, that thing must have jumped up into your hand! I honestly didn't think you'd get that out." She slipped the hook into her bag, and gathered up all of the other stuff she had under her seat. The door to the jet way was not yet open, but people were already crowding the aisles. Jason sidled out of his seat. Standing, he was a few inches taller than most of the other passengers, and he didn't feel quite so claustrophobic.

"Do you have anything in the overhead?" he asked. She told him which bin held her carry-on. He slid the overstuffed bag out and handed it to her in one smooth move even as she warned him that it weighed a ton and was wedged in there good and tight.

"I don't know how you got that out so easily," she said, "but thank you so much. It's nice to meet such a polite young gentleman. I hope you get a chance to meet up with your friends. Reunions are always so much fun!"

He wished he could believe that, but there was time enough to worry about that tomorrow. Right now, all he wanted was a good night's sleep.

* * *

**Sometime after 11:00 p.m.**

Michiru lay awake in bed. Haruka slumbered peacefully beside her, her back towards Michiru. Earlier, Haruka had made some tentative advances, but Michiru had played hard-to-get. She agreed to a little back-rub and complained to her lover of exhaustion, a miserable practice session where she had to play horrible, awful, tuneless Schoenberg, and of another run-in with her mother. It was good to vent, and she look forward to seeing how Haruka would convince her to give in to her feminine wiles.

Instead, Haruka cheerfully said that she and her pit crew had worked on the new engine all day, and it _still_ ran rough, so she was just as happy enough to roll over and go straight to sleep. She was now snoring softly.

Now, Michiru was wishing that she hadn't played _quite_ so hard to get. She simply could not fall asleep, no matter how badly she wanted to. The strange dreams she'd had the night before made her feel as if she hadn't slept at all. She turned over on her stomach, to see if that would help. It didn't.

If only her mother hadn't shown up unannounced at today's rehearsal! She had practically attacked Michiru's advisor, demanding to know why Michiru was being required to learn music that would never, ever be on a popular concert program or be on a best-selling CD. Michiru could do nothing but stand there and fume while her mother made an ass of herself. The other members of her college quartet kept shooting her sympathetic looks, but that did little to ease the churning bitterness.

_Why can't she just let me be? Why does every little thing have to be such a drama? Can't she understand that the music is_ my _gift, not hers?_ It was a too-common litany, even now. Her mother would blow up over any perceived setback to Michiru's fame. In fact, she was _still_ upset that her talented daughter had not been able to complete her high-school degree at the prestigious Mugen Academy.

Haruka had nearly exploded when Michiru finally told her that. "You'd think that someone blew up the school just to spite her!" she raged. "It's a good thing you found a patron when you did, Michiru-love."

It was a very good thing. The terms of the patronage allowed for Michiru to have her own lodgings away from home if she so wished, in order to practice unimpeded and to have easy access to rehearsal facilities and expert teachers.

Of course, she so wished. Moving into that condo was like moving into Heaven. For the past three years, Michiru only saw her mother once or twice a month at most. Even that was too much, but it was a decided improvement. She looked fondly at the slumbering Haruka. Of course, there were other, even better benefits to having her own lodgings.

If only she could sleep. Unfortunately, spending even ten minutes with her mother could set Michiru on edge for hours, even days. She wished she could talk to Haruka about it, but Haruka would only get angry and indignant, making the situation seem worse than it really was. _At least Mother and I are on something resembling speaking terms again_, Michiru thought, trying to put things in a better light.

There was one other thing she could do to help herself relax. As she had done on other occasions, Michiru simply opened her mind and cast her awareness out onto the waters, allowing herself to feel the slow, regular pulse of the tides. The tides are at the command of the moon, she mused, and found this notion a great comfort.

I am the tide, and the moon is my Queen, she thought, turning the line over and over in her head like a poem, pushing out that other litany word by word.

Michiru soon lost herself in the push-pull of the tides and the flow of the old, reliable currents that even now guided sailors along ancient trade routes. It reminded her of the low harmonics in the basses and cellos that began the first movement of Mahler's First Symphony, with a single sustained violin note riding above it all. She let the remembered music carry her up from the ocean deeps. As the music broke into random bursts of woodwind and brass, she let her mind float up into the waves. The waves followed the seeming randomness of the music, but as they smashed or caressed the land, a pattern emerged, just as a melody gradually and fitfully grew out of Mahler's controlled chaos, and she was swept into the joyous dance of wave and water.

That's us, she thought as she felt the waves spinning and dipping her in their dance. That's what we help our princess to do. We turn the darkness and despair into light and joy. No matter how many times the despair threatens to pull us under and drown us, she calls the joy to lift us up again. The rocking lulled her into a deeper and deeper calm. At last, the rocking slowed to a stop, and Michiru was left floating in peaceful darkness, staring up at the stars.

The stars. She began to drift upwards into the starry darkness, only vaguely aware that she was dreaming, and must have fallen asleep. Far sooner than would happen in reality, she drew near to her mother star, Neptune. But this was not Neptune as it was now, a failed star with a violent atmosphere and a mysteriously erratic magnetic field. This was a Neptune from long ago, a peaceful, aquamarine Neptune that sheltered the small colonies that had established a precarious foothold on its largest moon.

As she drew closer, ancient memories resurfaced. For the first time in her current life, Michiru could recall the names and natures of the smaller moons that had once been familiar sights.

Barren Larissa was little more than a lump of rock, even in the days of the Silver Millennium, but it shone beautifully in Triton's violet-blue sky. The relative motions of soot-dark Proteus and snow-bright Nereid were consulted by oracles as they attempted to determine the most propitious times for ceremonies and celebrations. The smallest moons were named in memory of those who had first settled this planetary system: Galatea, Naiad, Despina, and Thalassa. These four moonlets, along with Neptune's thin and icy rings, had once been a single planet-sized moon, dead and sundered long before the rise of the Silver Millennium.

And then there was Triton, a planet of fertile seas and artificial islands renowned for their winter gardens and the graceful columns of their harbor walls. The magic of the Ginzuishou and Triton's own inner heat warmed the atmosphere to where it could sustain life, and the giant moon sailed along in a steady orbit. Michiru once more remembered the thousands of different fish that used to swim in the cool seas, some the color of jewels, some reaching upwards towards true intelligence and sentience as had many other creatures on Earth. She remembered diving and swimming in those seas, playing with her cousins and with the mer-people and dolphins who had joined the royal colony. She had spent leisurely days swimming through the underwater cities, and walking through terraced gardens of arctic and alpine flowers that the settlers had carried oh-so-carefully all the way from Earth and worked diligently to keep alive in their new home.

Michiru first saw the pictures from Voyager 2 when she was in elementary school, long before she took on the mantle of Sailor Neptune. As the teacher showed picture after picture on the overhead, Michiru began to weep inconsolably right there in the middle of science class. The teacher asked her what was wrong, but Michiru didn't know.

Now, for the first time, Michiru truly understood the enormity of the destruction unleashed by the Silence Glaive.

Triton was now a frozen hell, even colder than distant Pluto. Giant ice volcanoes spewed rivers of liquid nitrogen and methane while a decaying retrograde orbit pulled the moon towards its inevitable doom in Neptune's atmosphere.

Metallia's attack on the Moon Kingdom had to have been unspeakably terrible to justify the kind of force that could knock a world forever backwards in its orbit and turn its sea breezes into cold poison. The fragile colony islands didn't have a chance. The horror lingered in Michiru's mind, but this dream-tour of her buried memories had more to show her. It was as if someone had taken her by the hand and was whispering excitedly about the wonders that lay ahead.

Michiru shivered with anticipation as she saw an aquamarine pinpoint of light rise over the horizon of the gas giant.

Triton Castle. Created before her birth as a fortress for the one destined to serve as Senshi of this planet.

Whether by miracle or design, her outpost had survived the Silence Glaive to remain in orbit around Neptune. Or maybe it had just been reborn when she was. Michiru couldn't help laughing at the thought of how astronomers back on earth would have reacted if Voyager 2 had sent back pictures of her spiral castle.

As she drew near, the castle rose higher and higher above the long horizon. She had last seen it when she, Uranus, and Pluto were desperately trying to fend off Galaxia's attack, and she had not had the time to marvel at the beauty of her castle. Soon, she was close enough to make out the details. The towers spiraled together to a fine point, suggesting the organic curves of a seashell. The crystal used to build the castle was not shiny and faceted. Rather, it was rounded and rugged, with a soft haze over the surface, like a piece of beach glass. Michiru had picked up dozens of the pale green pieces of sand-tumbled glass when walking along Earth's beaches. Just the sight of the smooth-rough walls of Triton Castle brought with it the smell of the sea.

She wanted to drift outside the castle and look at it properly, but was pulled downwards into the spiral and into the rooms where she had spent so many lonely years.

They weren't the rooms she remembered from her previous visit. Not exactly. When she had been here a year earlier, the observation room at the heart of the castle looked like something out of "Star Trek" with its observation screens and floating control panels, its sleek lines and glassy surfaces.

This time, the floor was made of polished coral. The spiral columns supporting the roof were carved with schools of fish and topped with gilded seashell capitals, no two exactly alike. The domed ceiling was covered with a shell mosaic of strange sea creatures. Fragments of the darkest mother-of-pearl, black shading into purple, formed the background for a multitude of jellyfish, sea anemones, starfish, horseshoe crabs, urchins, and strange deep-sea fish that were all jaw and spine and opalescent eyes. She also saw seahorses, giant squid, animals that looked more like plants, ribbon-like eels that swam in waters that never saw sunlight, primitive and lumbering sharks, crystalline things that must have been giant renderings of plankton, trilobites, and every other mysterious creature that lived in the ocean's embrace.

This was for my once-upon-a-time self, she thought. She looked down at herself. She was wearing her Senshi uniform, but it wasn't quite the uniform she remembered. There was no time for her to examine the differences before whoever was directing the dream forced her attention to the center of the room.

Instead of a giant viewing screen, the observation room contained a stone basin set into the middle of the coral floor. This is what I came here to see, she thought. The basin was full of something like quicksilver, making it a living mirror that could send images and even sounds. Whatever she had to see was in there. She stepped towards the center of the room.

_Pelagia_.

She stopped short, startled for the first time since she had entered the dream. "Who's there?"

_Pelagia Thalasses!_

She looked around, but could see no one. "Is that your name? What do you want? Who are you?"

_Over here._

The voice came from a doorway on the far side of the room. She was certain that the doorway had not been there a moment ago.

_Over here._

Michiru took one last backward glance at the pool of quicksilver, and went to investigate this strange door. If it was something dangerous, she could surely take care of it. Was she not the one chosen as Sailor Neptune, one of the trusted guardians at the gates of the Solar System?

_Pelagia. Child. Over here! Hurry!_

The voice sounded almost desperate. It was a woman's voice, but it was not one she recognized. Along with the voice she could hear the sound of waves lapping on a sandy shore. One impulse compelled her forward through the door. Another, equally strong, pulled her back to the mirror-pool. A choice was being offered. Hardly aware of making the choice, Michiru placed her hand on the door, and it swung open.

The dream changed then, as if it were a train jumping to a different set of tracks. To the dreaming mind the transition did not seem strange in any way.

Michiru now stood on a beach. An ordinary, sandy beach, just like hundreds of others on planet Earth. The sky was cloudless, but nearly gray from the humidity. Michiru looked over her shoulder. There was nothing there but a grassy salt marsh, its green barely tinged with the rust and gold of summer's end. There were no hills, no buildings, no sign of life. Nothing there for her.

She turned with glacial slowness to look back out at the ocean. There was a low wooden dock there now, leading out from the beach and into the waves. She walked slowly and deliberately through the sand, not even wondering why she was now barefoot. The wood of the dock was silky smooth and ash gray from years of exposure to salt and sun. Michiru walked out to the end of the dock, enjoying the sun-soaked warmth of the wood beneath her feet, and when she reached the end of the dock, she was not surprised to find herself sitting in a boat.

The wooden rowboat sped away from the dock and carried her swiftly over the waves with uncanny smoothness. The waves seemed to her to hold still, while the creaky little boat rode over them like the car of a roller coaster. The swells began to grow, becoming so steep that she feared that the boat--now just a round coracle made of bent branches and animal hides--would slide back down to be stuck forever in the troughs between the waves. Even from the tops of the tallest waves, the beach was no longer in sight.

At last, the boat climbed up the sides of one impossibly tall wave. Michiru willed the boat to make it to the top. It teetered, nearly tumbling back down, then crested the wave. She gasped in frightened delight as the boat plummeted down the far side of the wave towards a whirlpool. The coracle swung around the rim of the whirlpool, its speed nearly pulling it free of the vortex. Then, it spiraled downwards, faster and faster as the vortex grew narrower and narrower, until at last the coracle was gone, and it was just Michiru, cocooned in swirling water. The vortex pulled her down so far and so fast that she thought that she would crash into the ocean floor at any second.

_You came! Welcome, Pelagia._

And the depths rose up to meet her.

Michiru's eyes fluttered open just long enough for her to see that the sky outside her window was starting to grow lighter. She could sleep a little bit longer, she thought. Haruka was still sound asleep, but now with her arm flung over Michiru's shoulders. Michiru smiled as she drifted back into sleep, wondering if the soft embrace she felt in real life was what made her dream of the open arms waiting for her at the ocean floor.


	3. Drawing on the Past

**Sunday, July 1**

**1:30 a.m.**

Mizuno Ami was watching herself dream. To be precise, she was experiencing what Karl Jung referred to as 'lucid dreaming,' a state in which the dreamer was aware that this was only a dream, and with a little patience, could consciously manipulate events within the dream. After reading about Jung's theory, Ami had to see this for herself. To her delight, once she had started paying attention to her dreams, it became easier and easier to remember them and play around with them almost as if they were video games.

Someday, she might even discover how dreams worked.

This dream differed significantly from other lucid dreams she had experienced, so she observed it with particular care. It was unusually linear in its progression, unfolding in 'real' time rather than jumping through space and time with no explanation. The dream was also particularly vivid across all five senses, including the more primitive senses of smell, taste and touch. It was like an elaborate virtual reality setup, with Ami plugged in to the senses, thoughts, and perceptions of a young child.

Touch. Each of her hands was engulfed by another, much larger hand. On her left, a warm, dry hand, rough with calluses. A heavy ring pressed against the side of her hand. On her right, a smaller hand than the first, cool and damp, but not unpleasantly so. The air around her was uncomfortably hot, even though the lack of humidity should have made it bearable. The heat of the sun was like a physical weight pressing down upon her.

Taste and smell. These surprised her. They rarely manifested in dreams, except perhaps in the most abstract ways. Now, however, she could clearly sense that she had just eaten something sweet and sticky. Some sort of fruit, perhaps? She could also smell a very masculine odor nearby. Part of her dismissed it as unpleasant, while another part found it comforting. Other than that, the predominant smell reminded her of the high school art room when the kiln was firing a load of student projects.

Sound and sight. The crunch of footsteps on fine gravel. The dream-child walked along a gently rolling landscape, not of grassy hills, but of slippery dunes of gritty black dirt and scatterings of rock. The sky was a rich blue at the horizon, but nearly black at its zenith, even though the sun was shining. Shining was not the word for it. This sun flared like burning magnesium and took up a freakishly large section of the sky. There was not even a hint of anything resembling a cloud. _Thin atmosphere_, thought Ami. What was this place?

The two holding her hands--her parents, maybe?--were leading her towards another figure, a young man clothed in a white tunic that came down to mid-thigh. He was too far off for Ami to see any more detail than that.

The man on her left held her hand gently, but there was little else about him that suggested any tenderness. He had a hard, angular face, with deep-set eyes and an aquiline profile. Wiry pewter-gray hair was brushed back severely from his forehead. The lines on his face suggested that he did not smile very often. Still, when he looked down at the child, Ami thought she could see a hint of merriment in those dark gray eyes.

His clothes were simple, just trousers and a tunic in a light blue linen, but he wore an enormous brooch at his throat. Its setting was a square of silver or platinum. At the center was a star sapphire the size of the child's fist. The metal surrounding the stone was covered with something like Celtic interlacement, inlaid with lapis lazuli and turquoise.

When the child looked up in a way that gave Ami a good look at the woman on her right, Ami was at first alarmed. The woman's icy pale skin and bluish lips made Ami want to hustle her off to a cardiac care unit, _stat_. It was only when she took time to look at the woman properly that Ami realized that this was her natural coloring.

The woman had the longest face that Ami had ever seen, and her eyes were large in proportion to the rest of her face. It was not unattractive. In fact, it made her look like a drawing Ami had seen of the Elves of Tolkein's Middle Earth. Her waist-length hair was dead straight, indigo in color, and shone like metal, or enamel. Her large eyes were a pearlescent green, with only a little white showing around the iris. When she blinked, Ami thought she could see just a hint of a third, transparent eyelid behind the usual two. She wore a light green silk sheath embroidered in lavender, pale blue, and white in a water-lily pattern. The handkerchief-thin material revealed an almost gaunt, very leggy figure.

The young man was now close enough for Ami to get a better look at him. "Lord Lares! Lady Nerissa!" he called. "Glad you could both make it! I think that today might be the day!" And then, "Is that who I think it is?"

At this the girl squirmed her hands free from her parents' grip and ran across the dark sand to the young man. "Ikarus!" she squealed. She grabbed him around the legs in a fierce hug. Laughing, he pried her loose so he could lift her up and look her in the face. Ami guessed his age to be no more than sixteen. He had a handsome face, with warm blue eyes and a ready smile. His blond hair was tousled and kept flopping forward into his eyes.

"I hope you don't mind that we brought her, Shaper," said the man. Lord Lares, Ami reminded herself. "What with the preparations for the sealing, we thought it best if we did something to distract her and keep her out from under the servants' feet."

"Of course I don't mind. Looking for aquifers is lonely business. So," he said, looking at the little girl with mock solemnity, "how is the Lady Egeria this fine morning?"

Egeria, as Ami now knew the girl's name to be, pulled a small coin from the pocket of her dress. "Make it dance, Ikarus!" she commanded.

"Egeria, don't be rude," said Lady Nerissa.

"Oh, I don't mind," said Ikarus. He gently set the little girl down, and took the coin from her.

"I understand you received a message from your family back on Earth," said Lord Lares. "I trust that everything is well?"

Ikarus smiled even more broadly than before. "More than well, my Lord. My younger brother was just chosen to be one of Prince Endymion's royal guard."

"Congratulations!" said Lord Lares. He would have said more, but Egeria pouted and again indicated that Ikarus had yet to make the coin dance.

"All right, all right," Ikarus said, but it was with more humor than impatience. He held the coin flat in his palm. Then, it rose straight up in the air, dropped, spun, rose again, then swooped down to slalom through his outstretched fingers. It rose up again, pirouetting, and Egeria laughed and giggled with glee.

As the coin danced in the air above and around Ikarus's hand, one of Egeria's memories slid into Ami's mind. She had been crying inconsolably until the young Shaper had found her. Still sobbing, she had pointed down into a gap between two large stones in the garden. One of her sisters had dropped Egeria's favorite bracelet into the crack, and Egeria's arms were too short to reach it. With a smile, the Shaper simply passed his hand over the fissure, and the bracelet leapt into his hand like a dog responding to its master's whistle.

She watched the sunlight glint off the dancing coin. "Does it only work with metal?" she asked.

Ikarus laughed even as Lady Nerissa berated her daughter for her insatiable curiosity. "No, not just metal, although that's easy. It wants to be shaped. It wants to obey. Shapers can also work with stone, with glass, with sand, even with water."

"That's what you're doing!" she exclaimed. Egeria hugged herself with delight. "You're going to make water for us!"

She did not know why both Ikarus and Lord Lares started laughing or why Lady Nerissa primmed her lips together the way she did when she didn't know whether to laugh or scold.

"No, little lady. We Shapers don't actually _make_ anything. What we need to do is find water that's already here, hiding deep underground so the Sun couldn't burn it off during the First Days. Then, if everything goes well, what I'll do is _tell_ the water that it's safe for it to come up to the surface, just like I told your coin to dance. That way, people will have plenty of water to drink, and they can water their plants. The plants should make it easier for more water to stay on Mercury. More water means more plants, and with any luck, someday Mercury will be as green as Earth itself."

"I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't been able to place those three new wells at Mariner Plateau," said Lares. "We owe you more than we can say, Shaper."

Ikarus shrugged, but Egeria could see he was happy. "I only wish that I'd been born with the full dowsing talent, and not just a scattershot of partial talents. You'd have plenty of water then. I've got a sense that there's water out in this direction, but I can't quite pin down exactly where. I hope that doesn't mean it's too far underground."

_I'm on Mercury_, Ami thought. _I'm remembering Mercury the way it once was, when they--when we--were struggling to make this a planet that could support life on its own_. She felt Ikarus's hand ruffle her hair, and she remembered the all-consuming and childish crush she'd had on this handsome visitor from Earth. Ami had to admit that you couldn't help but admire a man who could explain terraforming to a small child.

"Ikarus?" Egeria tugged on the hem of the Shaper's tunic. "Is something wrong with the water over there? Is that why you're not taking us there?"

"Over there? What water are you talking about?"

"That water!" Egeria pointed to their left, towards where the dark, rock-strewn slope abruptly changed to a flat, white plain. Salt flats, thought Ami. Maybe an ancient ocean that had been burned away by the sun. "There's lots of water over there!"

"Egeria, don't make up stories," said Lord Lares, but Egeria had already started running.

"I'll show you!" she cried. She ran downhill across the scattered rocks towards the flats, her too-big sandals making a ridiculous flapping sound. Ami wondered what the child was doing, but then she finally noticed the sensation that had been present since the beginning of the dream. There was water out here, and lots of it.

On Earth, in Japan, and especially in the vicinity of Tokyo Bay, one could not escape the presence of moving water. The moving of wild water was as familiar to Ami as her own heartbeat. Living in her ultra-modern apartment building, she was further surrounded by water that was herded through a warren of pipes, valves, faucets, and drains. If she paid attention, she could sense and follow the track of even the tiniest rivulet, but most of the time, the constant rush and flow of Earth's waters was no more than a soothing white noise.

If, like Egeria, she were accustomed to parched Mercury, the presence of this large body of water would stand out like the opening notes of Beethoven's Fifth.

Ami wished that someone would catch the child. Running in oversized sandals was a recipe for disaster, especially on rocky ground. She tried to send some sort of mental message to her alter-ego, but then the inevitable happened and Egeria tripped. The child's shrieks of pain and outrage nearly knocked Ami right out of the dream. It didn't help that Ami herself also felt the impact of the fall.

Ikarus scooped up the wailing child. "There, now. A little thing like you couldn't hit the ground hard enough to hurt anything, but let's take a look." He sat down on the ground, lowering her into his lap. As Egeria sniffled and leaned into Ikarus's chest, Ami looked critically at the injured knees and palms. They were red, but not too badly abraded. Ikarus used his Shaping power to gently lift the gravel fragments from her hands and knees. Egeria whimpered, and Ami mentally sighed in relief. The tiny rocks had only made a few dimples in her skin, but had not broken it. The child's tears were more from fright and over-stimulation than anything else.

Suddenly, Ikarus froze. He sat still for a moment, then handed Egeria to Lady Nerissa. "She may have been right," he said as Lares began to scold the child. Ikarus stood up and faced the salt flats.

He focused his eyes and concentrated. Ten yards out, a small patch of salty sand swirled and skittered, clearing a hand-sized patch of hard clay. "It's the composition of the soil," he murmured. "That's why I couldn't pinpoint it at first." He closed his eyes and his face showed the strain of mental effort.

Egeria looked at him, worried, but knowing that she shouldn't ask what was wrong. Lady Nerissa silently pointed to the little patch of bare clay. Egeria didn't see anything at first, but then a little spot of darkness showed against the pale clay, and eventually spread.

Lady Nerissa walked out to investigate. She bent over, pressing the palm of her hand to the ground. She straightened. "It's water!" She smiled. "_Fresh_ water."

"And a lot of it, too. Now that I know what to look for under all of this salt, it's obvious," said Ikarus. "The salt's not part of the aquifer. Everything out there is fresh and clean. Most of the water's about a mile out further south, if my impressions are correct." He looked at Egeria, and favored her with a smile. "I don't think I would have sensed it unless I was right on top of it, but you knew it was there all along, didn't you? That's a rare talent you have, little Egeria," he said, "and you should be proud." He turned to Lord Lares and Lady Nerissa. "Neither of you would happen be of Shaper descent, would you?"

The coolness of Lady Nerissa's hand on the back of her neck was a welcome comfort. "A very few of my kind have an inborn sympathy for water--'dowsing,' as you'd call it. Humans aren't the only race that has given rise to gifted families, Ikarus Talusidhis," she said with gentle humor. "I'm glad that some good comes of your wild, barbarian blood, dear heart," she said to Egeria.

"Enough of that," snapped Lord Lares. "What's important is that we've found wild, flowing water out here, even if it's... how far down would you say it is, Shaper?"

Ikarus stood with his arms outstretched, palms facing the ground. His eyes closed in concentration, and Egeria could see something like a heat shimmer coming off of his hands. "The aquifer is only twenty feet down, maybe even less in other places!" he said, his voice high with surprise. He turned to look at Lares, blue eyes wide in astonishment. "If I hadn't sensed it myself, I'd never have believed it, but there's enough water here to support another city the size of Mariner Plateau. If some of the water is as close to the surface as I think it is, you may even be able to develop some sustainable agriculture."

"What about silviculture?" demanded Lord Lares. "Trees would help build up the atmosphere to where we wouldn't have to rely so much on the Ginzuishou."

"Dear!" exclaimed Lady Nerissa.

"Possibly. Let's just say that I wouldn't rule it out, and leave it at that for now." Ikarus looked back out over the hard, dusty plain. "We'll have to map the aquifer, of course, if we're going to place the wells and aqueducts properly."

"I can help!" shouted Egeria. She could show off her newfound talent, and more importantly, she would get to work with Ikarus!

"I'm sure you could," said Lord Lares, "but you must go back to Mariner Plateau for the sealing tomorrow evening."

Ikarus was still staring out at the plain. "I hope there's no offense if I do not attend, Lord Lares, but if you want me to get this aquifer mapped before I have to return to Earth, I'll need to get started right away."

"I can help," repeated Egeria. "I don't have to go to the sealing, do I?"

"Lares, it really isn't necessary for her to go, is it? She's little more than a baby, really," said Lady Nerissa. She paused as if debating whether to say what was on her mind. "Besides, it may be better all around if Egeria stayed away. I know you don't want to hear it, but the other girls... I think they still resent the fact that you took another wife after their mother--"

"My daughters honor and respect one another, and they had better honor and respect you," said Lord Lares. Ami could tell that Egeria wanted to contradict him, and say that her sisters were always mean to her, and called her names like 'mongrel.' What they said about Lady Nerissa was even worse. "The rest of the court will have to learn to do the same," Lord Lares concluded.

An unspoken "even if..." hung in the air.

"Besides," he finally continued, with the air of a man desperately trying to convince himself of something, "the Eunomia dictate that all daughters of all the noble houses be present at their planet's sealing. Whether or not my older daughters approve, Egeria is a noble daughter of the house of Mercury, no matter how old or how young she is, or who her mother happens to be. She will attend. The Eunomia expect no less, and we don't want a repeat of what happened to Rhea, do we?"

Ikarus looked as if he had been given a sudden blow to the gut. Lady Nerissa simply frowned and said, "I don't that think that's an appropriate topic to discuss in front of children, dear. And besides, the situation is *hardly* the same."

Okay, thought Ami. So far, she had only been riding shotgun in Egeria's mind, picking up all of the little girl's perceptions, a scattering of her thoughts, and one vivid memory. Maybe, if she concentrated and focused her attention, she could prompt this dream-child to ask a couple of questions. Of course, that wouldn't guarantee that she'd get any answers, but it was worth a try.

There. She could feel the girl's lips start to move. All she had to do was push a little harder and--

--Ami was awake and back in her own body. Her head was apparently stuck to her physics textbook, anchored by a drying puddle of drool.

So much for studying. It was far more important that she figure out where on earth this dream came from and what it meant.

While she did that, she was going to take a nice, long bath. Dreaming about the parched landscape of Mercury had left her with a craving to be surrounded by water. She could write down what she'd seen and heard in her dream as she soaked.

She topped off the furo with some hot water while she rinsed off. Once that was done, she carefully lowered herself into the tub so as not to get her notebook and pencil wet. Over the years, Ami had learned how to manage piles of books and notebooks while sitting in the tub. Her friends had long ago stopped questioning the splashing noises they sometimes heard while on the phone with her.

As she wrote down everything she remembered from the dream, she became more and more convinced that what she had seen was not a dream, but a long-buried memory. Millions, even billions, of years buried, if she was not mistaken.

Ami knew that compared to the other Senshi, especially Rei, Michiru, Hotaru, and even Mamoru, she had all the psychic ability of a toaster oven. True, she had a certain affinity with flowing water, but she had never to her knowledge had either a prophetic dream or a dream about the Silver Millennium.

She re-read at the transcript of her dream, pausing only to add a few notes in the margins or add a few details she'd missed on the first pass. She had a strong suspicion that Egeria was her former self, before she became Sailor Mercury. The off-hand reference to Usagi's silver crystal was especially telling. It was likely that the key to whatever this was about was hidden in the adult conversation that had bewildered and bored the young Egeria. What, for example, was this "sealing," and who or what were (she had noticed that the word took a plural verb form) the Eunomia? Who was Rhea, and what had happened to her that so unsettled Ikarus and Nerissa? Had something happened back then that could happen again today?

Ami got out of the tub, dried off, and put on her pajamas. None of the Senshi had complete memories of their past lives in the Silver Millennium. Most of them could remember intermittent stretches of the happy times they had together as five girls basking in the peace of the Silver Millennium. As far as she knew, not a one of them knew anything about who or what they had been before becoming Senshi, aside from some vague impressions of what their mother planets had been like. Several times in the past, the episode with the Dead Moon Circus being the most prominent, memories had spontaneously returned to the Senshi, but only ones that were germane to the situation at hand.

One of her father's favorite expressions came to mind: This is no way to run a railroad.

Ami wholeheartedly agreed. How were they supposed to make the right decisions if they did not have all of the facts? The more they knew about any potential enemies out there the better chance they had of defeating them before too much damage was done. All too often they had only reacted to a crisis rather than trying to head things off before they got out of hand. Their battles almost always ended with a hastily planned full-frontal assault on the enemy with Sailor Moon delivering the coup de grace. Each time, they were only a hair's breadth away from total defeat.

In fact, the Senshi had all died, what was it now--two, three times? Ami picked up her now-dry physics text and closed it so that the spine would not be permanently warped. Whether you read Newton, Einstein, Feynman, Sagan, Gell-Mann, or Hawking, the inescapable conclusion was that everything in the universe was slowly grinding to a halt. Whether that halt came in the form of a catastrophic implosion, or in the coldness of absolute zero was irrelevant. It was statistically and logically inevitable that the Senshi's powers would fail them some day. How that would happen, Ami had no idea, but one day they would die and there would be no coming back.

She shook her head fiercely. She had to derail such thoughts before they pulled her into a deep funk. So the death of the universe was inevitable. So what? Until the day when she, Mizuno Ami, ceased to exist and went on to... wherever... she would continue to fight tooth, wit, and nail for those things that she considered eternal and worthy of protecting. Justice. Love. Peace. As Sailor Mercury, she would continue to battle those who would cause slavery and suffering, and who would hasten the descent of the world into cold and darkness. And someday, as Dr. Mizuno Ami, she would work to heal illness and help stave off death and decay.

If this was foolishness, then she would hold her head high and call herself a fool.

Right now, she needed to focus on this dream. Something or someone had triggered a memory of something from her previous life as Sailor Mercury. No, not Sailor Mercury. Egeria. Why her? Why now? Was it a real memory or a fiction? Was she meant to see this specific memory, or was this simply a random recall of something from her past?

The first thing she needed to find out was whether or not this was an isolated experience. What were the other Senshi dreaming of tonight?

**7:22 a.m.**

Minako was late for class--again! She sprinted down the hallway, just waiting for one of the teachers to yell at her, but none of them noticed, even though they looked right at her as she passed. She was already three months into her senior year, and no one had even told her she was supposed to be in the advanced math class!

She would never get into college! Never, never, never!

Somehow, she managed to find the right classroom, even though she didn't know what number it was. Funny, she didn't know that the advanced math class was taught by her volleyball coach.

"Good morning, team," said Coach Shimura. "Your history midterm is today, and as you know, unless you all pass, we won't be able to go on to the volleyball semi-finals."

The midterm was today? Oh, yes. She'd forgotten. She was always forgetting things.

Umino--figures he'd be in this class--raised his hand. "Where are the semi-finals this year?"

Coach Shimura walked up and down between the desks, handing out test papers. "The tournament is in Africa. This is because there is widespread destruction in Africa. Some of you may be executed for treason. Life imprisonment in outer space is also an option."

Minako nodded. That made perfect sense. The semi-finals were very important after all.

"Africa is a temperate zone," droned Shimura, "with rainforests, clouds, and temperatures hot enough to boil lead. You will be responsible for bringing your own sunscreen. Its principal exports are copper, sulfur, and cats."

Minako raised her hand. "Will that be on the test?" she asked.

"You will be required to know the chief industries and foreign policy positions of Venus, that is correct. Be sure to mark your answers clearly, because one of your teachers is a murderer."

Wow. She hadn't known that. It was nice of Coach Shimura to warn them. Or maybe _he_ was the murderer, and none of them would leave the room alive. Minako wondered if Princess Serenity knew about this. She'd be awfully worried if she did. Minako wrote a note to pass to her in their next class. She reached down to put the note in her bag.

Uh-oh. She wasn't in uniform any more. Maybe Coach Shimura hadn't noticed that Minako was wearing a baby-doll nightie. It was a little on the sheer side, she realized. No one was saying anything, so maybe they hadn't guessed that anything was wrong. When she sat up, she found that the top had shrunk, and didn't cover her chest completely. She tugged on the hem.

If I'm not careful, she thought, they'll all see me naked, and then they'll know that I'm really V(nus).

Minako looked at her test paper, and raised her hand again. "Shimura-sensei, my test paper doesn't have anything on it."

"That's not my fault," he said. "You were supposed to pay attention."

The rest of the class started laughing at her.

"Nobody told me I had to remember all of this! It's not fair!" Minako looked at the paper with mounting panic. She would be executed for treason, and no college would accept her after that! Even worse, they might find out that she was really V(nus), and not Aino Minako.

Then she'd really be in trouble.

The paper hadn't been blank when she'd first gotten it, she was sure of it. Now, there weren't even any lines to show her where to write.

Then, in an instant, the correct answer came to her. She could pass the test! Minako hunkered over her paper and started drawing wildly on the blank paper. The pencil she had was really great, too. It changed color whenever she wanted it to. She'd have to get some for the rest of the girls.

She hoped they were passing their tests okay.

Although she thought at first that the test paper was a single sheet, it turned out to be seven pieces of paper stuck together. Clever of me to figure that out, thought Minako. I'm doing really well this time!

She drew a different picture on each page, and then it was over.

"Done!"

The word echoed, making Minako feel all hollow inside. She looked up. The classroom was empty.

"Did I pass?"

There was no answer.

"C'mon! Won't somebody tell me whether or not I passed? I really need to be on this team!" She started crying. "If I don't get on the team, everyone's gonna die! Will somebody please tell me if I passed? I'm supposed to be the leader of the Senshi! They need me!"

The door opened. At first, Minako thought that Usagi was going to come in, but instead it was someone she didn't quite know.

The woman who came in was seven feet tall and made of bronze. Minako could see seams and rivets where she was put together. Was this the murderer? She *did* have a spear with her.

The bronze woman stopped at the front of the room. For a few minutes she did not move. Then, she was standing directly in front of Minako, her spear arm outstretched so that the point of the weapon was only a hair's width from Minako's brow.

Then, the woman's head turned slowly and smoothly on her neck, revealing a second face just to the side of the first. This face was covered in the palest gold. It was a man's face, with a straight nose and a strong but not massive jaw. The face looked kind, but reserved.

It looked at her for a moment, and then the head turned again, revealing yet another face, this one covered in rose-gold. It was the a woman's face, perfectly oval and fine-boned. The expression on the face was a mixture of sweetness and intensity. She, too, looked at Minako for a moment.

The head turned once more, revealing the bronze face that had shown when the figure entered the room.

This face could have been the face of a very feminine man, or a slightly mannish woman. Minako somehow knew that it was a woman, and the most dangerous of the three. Her face was handsome and fierce, but not cruel. "You," she said. "Kytheria."

She jabbed the spear forward into Minako's forehead.

There was a flash of orange light, and Minako screamed in pain and ecstasy.

She blinked her eyes a couple of times, finally focusing on a white, furry, and concerned little face.

"Jeez, Mina! Are you all right?" asked Artemis. "You were practically screaming in your sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she grumbled. "Get offa my chest, will you? Your paws are poking me in a, um, sensitive place."

The white cat hopped off of the bed. Minako wondered if he was blushing under his fur. "You'd better get showered and dressed if you're going to meet Usagi in time for that manga thing you're going to."

"I know, I know," she said through another yawn. She rubbed her forehead. "Hey, you didn't swat me in the head to wake me up, did you?"

"Of course not!"

A voice carried from out in the hallway. "Mina! Miii-na! You need to get up! It's already seven thirty! You'll miss your class!"

"Old hag," muttered Minako, but it was only out of habit. "I'm up!" she called. "Dibs on the shower!" She turned to Artemis. "And no peeking. Got it?"

"Sometimes I get the idea that you don't trust me," said Artemis. "Say, if you're going to be out all day, can I play with your Game Boy? I promise not to run down the batteries this time."

Minako's only response to that was to pull her eyelid at him on her way out the door and mutter about how most people had _normal_ cats.

**8:30 a.m.**

There wasn't much she could accomplish today, thought Taiyouko, unless Keisuke was able to conjure that phone number out of the ether. The man had inhuman patience, and would matter-of-factly double check all of the "Chiba" listings in the greater Tokyo area, _and_ look up all of the likelier misspellings, but Taiyouko had learned that it was best not to be optimistic. Tomorrow, she'd also have to go and look up property tax records and call up leasing offices in the area of the accident to try to see if there were any residents in the area who had also been around fourteen years ago.

Of course, no one she needed to talk to would be in their office on a Sunday. Thank you so much, Harada-san, for handing me this case on a Friday afternoon, she griped.

Frustrated, short on patience, and desperately craving a cigarette, Taiyouko decided that this would be as good a day as any to get in some target practice. Besides, her re-certification was due in a couple of weeks, and she might as well get it out of the way. Being one of the few members of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police who was allowed to carry a firearm while in plain clothes was a matter of no small pride, even if she rarely took her gun with her into the field.

The shooting range was sparsely populated. Before reporting down to the actual target range, she brought her weapon, ammunition, and lock box to the front desk for inspection.

"Flawless as usual, Seidou-san," said Sergeant Yamato. "We'll get you set up in slot five. There are some new fellows fresh from the academy, but otherwise it's been pretty slow today."

"Are they still making us use competition-style targets for re-certification?"

"Afraid so. I don't know why they won't use the silhouette targets instead. Last I'd heard, no police officer has ever been attacked by a small black dot."

They both laughed at the tired old joke. Both had been on the force for nearly twenty years, and both saw the use of firearms as a necessary evil, despite or even because of the fact that they were both expert shots.

"Just you wait," said Yamato. "One day they'll invent a target that shoots back, and we'll all be in trouble."

Taiyouko just stared at him in confusion. Where had she heard that before? Before she could remember, she was struck with a sudden coughing fit and had to run to the drinking fountain.

"Boy, it's a good thing you decided to quit smoking again," said Yamato. "You sound like you're about to lose a lung."

Taiyouko took a deep breath, enjoying the unimpeded flow of air down her throat. "It's not that," she gasped. "For a minute there, it felt like I was choking. I must have inhaled some lint or something."

"Whatever. Head on down once you've pulled yourself together and I'll bring you the targets, along with a couple of silhouettes if you like."

As Yamato had forewarned, there were four young men in the first four booths of the firing range. When did they get so young? thought Taiyouko. They each wore conservative gray or navy slacks and crisp white shirts, and none looked old enough to shave, or even drive. Murata-sensei, the venerable firearms instructor who had first taught Taiyouko to shoot, merely nodded a greeting, then turned his attention back to the young men, firmly correcting stance or grip as needed. Taiyouko had not been surprised to learn that he also taught kendo at a local dojo.

The young men looked at the newcomer with some surprise. Taiyouko wore typical pavement-pounding garb: a short-sleeved yellow blouse, a cream-colored cardigan that was worn thin at the elbows, a wrap-around denim skirt that hit just below the knee, and crepe-soled loafers. It was comfortable, easy to run in, and made her look absolutely harmless. Only the badge and I.D. clipped to her waistband marked her as police.

Yamato brought her four silhouettes for practice, and five official targets with his name and the date handwritten in the corner. Taiyouko put on the ear protectors, which were never quite small enough to fit her snugly, and clipped the first silhouette to the line that would zoom it out to the desired firing distance.

The cadets, or recruits, or whatever they were looked on with mild derision and amusement as Taiyouko prepared her weapon. Many women her age were at home enjoying their first grandchildren. There was no way that someone like her could be any good with a gun, they appeared to be thinking. Why, the recoil alone would probably snap those tiny wrists. She should leave the more dangerous police work to brave, strong young men, men like themselves, for example.

Their expressions changed when Taiyouko calmly pegged the silhouette with three shots in less than two seconds, two taps dead to the center of the chest, the third in the middle of the forehead.

She acknowledged Murata-sensei's "well done" with a polite bow, then dispatched the remaining targets as easily as the first, but even faster. It was a classic firing pattern, and if drilled to the point of being instinctive, could save an officer's life in a situation where clear thinking was not always possible. Unfortunately, it would also end the suspect's life.

Taiyouko had only killed once, and she would prefer not to have to do so again. Still, she was not sorry she had done so, since it had saved two--make that three--people's lives.

She took care of the qualification targets with ease, hitting the center dot straight on each time, always getting the three shots to cluster within a half-inch radius. Yamato signed off on the targets and watched carefully as Taiyouko unloaded her gun and put it back in the lock box. She already felt much better. Making loud noises and destroying things always put her in a better mood.

The rare compliment from Murata-sensei should have been a stroke to her ego, but instead it managed to take some of the glow off of the shooting session. It made her feel like a fake. Her aim was naturally good, whether she was firing a gun or tossing an empty can into a distant wastebasket. When the fury that always rode in the back of her mind was aroused, her aim was even better.

What did it feel like, she wondered, to try to hit something and _miss_?

**12:35 p.m.**

Minako yawned loud and long stretching one arm out and one arm up as she did.

"I take it you didn't sleep well either," Usagi said. Her voice was muffled because her head was down on her sketchbook.

Minako jammed a second yawn with her fist. "I had the worst dream last night. You know the one where you find out that you're supposed to be in this one class you haven't attended all year?"

"You mean the one where you find out that you've got a big, important test you didn't know about?"

"Yup. _That_ one."

Usagi shrugged. "Same-old, same-old, huh? So, were you naked, in your underwear, in a clown suit, or in your pajamas?"

"Nightie. _Skimpy_ nightie." Minako blinked, then lowered her head so she could look Usagi in the eye. "What do you mean, 'clown suit'?"

A clearing of the throat called their attention to the front of the room. The seminar instructor had finally gotten the attention of all the other teenagers in the room. Usagi and Minako, were of course the last to come to attention.

This was too much like regular school, thought Usagi. This was supposed to be _fun_.

"If you two girls are in such an animated discussion, I suppose it means that you've come up with an interesting story idea. Why don't you two be the first to share with the class?"

It was not a suggestion.

Their teacher, a well-known manga artist and writer, had lectured for nearly three hours on story construction, character types, how to draw a basic human figure, and so on. Students were then to divide into groups of their own choosing, and while taking a half-hour to wolf down their lunches, come up with a basic story line that they would work on for the rest of class.

Needless to say, Usagi and Minako had not completed the first assignment. So, Minako did what she always did when called upon to give an answer or recitation in class: she improvised.

"Well," she began, "the idea is that there's this, you know, girl. Perfectly ordinary. Perfectly ordinary home, perfectly ordinary family..."

The teacher cleared his throat again. It was the kind of throat-clearing that would have grown men crying for their mommies.

"Uh, anyhow, this ordinary school girl finds this magical creature. We haven't decided what kind of creature, but it's not a cat. Anyhow, this thing that's definitely not a cat but some other kind of animal altogether tells her that she's the reincarnation of the Queen of Peace, and she has to find her four guardian soldiers."

Usagi could only stare at her friend in mute horror. This was beginning to sound just a little too familiar.

"Anyhow, none of them can exactly remember who they were, or why the kingdom--I mean queendom..."

"Realm?" suggested the teacher. He looked a little confused, which was a typical reaction to Minako-speak.

"Yeah. Why the _realm_ of peace went kablooie in the first place, so they've got to try to figure that out _and_ try to find the Queen's boyfriend, who's also out there with a scrambled memory _and_ keep their old enemy from killing them even though they don't know who the enemy is..."

"Very interesting," said the teacher once Minako reached a point in her narrative that could be interpreted as something like a pause. "It sounds like your characters are trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle without benefit of having the picture on the box. Now remember, you have to work up a detailed outline and character sketches to share by the end of class." The class then listened to another group's tale of battling mecha and why it was logical for said mecha to resemble dogs.

"V-chan!" Usagi whispered fiercely, "what are you doing! That's _our_ story!"

"Oh, like he'd know that," said Minako. Her eyes were bright and she her smile had turned feral. "We've had adventures wilder than anything in any manga I've ever seen, so why shouldn't we take advantage of all this great material? Besides," she added, frowning now, "it burns me down that I haven't seen a lick of profit from any of the Sailor V toys, games, cartoons, stickers, temporary tattoos, pencil toppers, candy dispensers, key chains..."

"I know. I cringe every time I see a Sailor Moon plushie. I mean, come on! I know I don't look _that_ fat. I did buy a mug, though," she admitted. "And a cell-phone cover." She almost bought the Sailor Saturn key chain, since it was so cute, but had decided it would not be worth the inevitable teasing.

"Doesn't Shingo collect all of that junk?"

"Yeah. I'm giving him an autographed picture for his birthday." She grinned. "Why not? All it costs me is the cost of developing and a few strokes of the pen."

"I like it," said Minako. "Why do things the hard way? Speaking of, you know that we're not going to have any trouble coming up with characters."

Both girls grinned evilly, then sobered.

"Do you want to be the one to tell Rei and Makoto that we turned them into manga characters?" asked Minako.

Usagi shook her head violently. "They'll pound us to a pulp. Remember the whole 'Senshi Spotters' business?"

"Uh, I was thinking more along the lines of us not having to share the proceeds," said Minako. "How about we come up with different characters altogether? You know, have it be Mako-chan, but with, say, pink and green hair and make her attacks even more plant-like than storm-like?"

"Oh. I see..." All sorts of images whirled through Usagi's mind. There was so much that they could do with costumes and jewelry, and cool magical weapons. The Senshi's uniforms only differed in color. The shoes used to be different, but with the last change in their transformations, they all had those white boots. If they did new characters, each one could have a completely different outfit. Several good ideas lined up in her head, each shouting for her immediate attention.

"Let's each do quick sketches of you, me, Rei, Ami, Mako-chan, Luna, and Artemis," suggested Minako.

"We should probably include Pluto and the rest," mused Usagi. "It doesn't seem right to leave them out."

"Well, we didn't really meet them until after the whole Black Moon thing. I mean, we met Pluto then, but was that really _our_ Pluto? Didn't she die back then... I mean front then... oh, you know what I'm trying to say!"

Usagi knew. It was something she'd wondered about from time to time. Would the woman they knew as Meiou Setsuna eventually stop time in the future to stop Prince Diamond from putting the Ginzuishou of the past and the future together, or did the soul of the future Pluto get sent back to the twentieth century to be reborn in Tokyo? Was there right now a lonely Sailor Pluto standing guard at the Gates of Time, doomed to die a thousand years from now?

"Let's leave out the whole Black Moon story, then," said Usagi. "All of this time travel never did make sense to me." Plus she remembered how... unpleasant it had felt when her body started fading due to her proximity to the comatose NeoQueen Serenity. "Let's just get this outline and the character sketches finished so we don't look totally stupid when it's time for the group critique."

Minako agreed. They looked at their outline and realized that they had to add a few more characters.

The most important of these was a love interest for the queen. "The King of Justice," said Usagi. She didn't know where the idea came from, but the name felt right. "It goes with the Queen of Peace. The idea is that until the Queen finds him, there is nothing but injustice in the land, and people go unpunished for their crimes."

"Why's he missing?" asked Minako. "Have we decided on that one yet?"

"Someone betrayed him? You know, treason?"

Minako's pencil snapped in two, and as she ducked under the table to retrieve the pieces, Usagi heard something that she took as agreement. Once they agreed on important details about the king, such as his hair color, blood type, favorite food, astrological sign, image song, etc., Usagi suggested that he should have a set of four guardians like the ones that Endymion had once had.

"He hardly ever talks about them," said Usagi, "but I know he wonders what things would have been like if they hadn't turned on him. We can have our guys turn evil for a while, but then they can become good again, the way Mamoru did after we defeated Beryl. That way we can have a _really_ happy ending." She looked up and scanned the room to make sure that no one was eavesdropping on their unusual conversation.

"I've got a great idea! Why don't we have it so that each of the Queen's soldiers hooks up with one of the King's guardians?" Minako made a list of names, and started drawing arrows (with little hearts as the tips) between different names. "That way, we can have one couple be all romantic and sweet, while another is all angsty because their families are at war or something, another couple keeps getting into these bizarre misunderstandings, and another couple seems like they really hate each other, but deep down they like each other. How about it, Usagi?"

"Nah," said Usagi, trying not to cringe at this cliché-fest. "That's too neat. You only want to pair everyone off because you had that crush on Kunzite."

Minako's horrified look was priceless. "You _remember_ that? _I _barely remember that!"

Usagi giggled. "You two would have looked cute together. Too bad he was, er..."

"Evil? Trying to kill us?" said Minako. Her pencil was making very dark lines as it dug into the paper.

"Gay," Usagi said meekly.

"WHAT!" When several other people, including the teacher, turned to look at them, Minako leaned towards Usagi and lowered her voice to a hiss. "He was _not_!"

Usagi just closed her eyes and nodded solemnly.

"No way! Where did you hear that?"

"Mamo-chan."

"I probably really don't want to know this, but was he getting it on with... one of the other three?"

Again, Usagi nodded. "Zoisite."

"I don't mean to be politically incorrect or anything, but ewww! I mean, that's just... ewww!"

"Hey! You're the one who got all drooly over Tokyo Babylon," Usagi retorted. She fluttered her eyelashes and tried to imitate Minako's voice. "Oooh! Wouldn't Seiishirou and Subaru make just the _cutest_ couple! It's a shame about Subaru's sister, but love conquers all!"

"That's different! Two guys can be cute together if I don't like one of the guys! It also helps," she snarled, "if they're fictional characters! That's cute. It's also not cute when yours truly gets dumped in favor of a guy."

Usagi decided it would not be prudent to point out that one had to be involved with someone before one could be dumped by that someone. Sometimes Minako acted as if her title of Senshi of Love and Beauty should carry over into everyday life. "Listen, if it helps any, Zoisite looked pretty girly."

"Even in my past life," groused Minako, "all the guys I liked were either involved with someone else or gay."

Or gay _and_ involved with someone else _and_ evil, thought Usagi. Minako really did have the worst luck with guys. "Hey, maybe we can make a couple of the king's guardians be kind-of-sort-of in love with each other, but they never actually say so, and then we can have all of this romantic tension and that are-they-aren't-they..." Usagi finally noticed the look that Minako was giving her. It was a look that was only ten seconds away from detonation. "... or maybe we can just have the handsome, sexy general be madly in love with the leader of the Queen's soldiers?" she finished weakly.

"Exactly. Then, of course, the beautiful, resourceful, intelligent soldier gets to drop a very large rock on him when he turns to the Dark Side," Minako said, a very scary grin crossing her face. "Or maybe I should just use an anvil. Or a piano. Yeah, that's more like it..." She bent over the outline and started scribbling with a vengeance. Literally.

Usagi only shook her head. She didn't know if it would be a good or a bad thing if Minako ever found a boyfriend. She corrected Minako as she wrote, or told her to leave this out, it was too embarrassing, or to not have something be quite so scary. Instead of having a Luna and an Artemis, they decided to have just one magical creature. Time flew by. Eventually, the teacher made his round from group to group, offering a suggestion here and there. Each time he left a group, there was a flurry of creative activity in his wake.

When he came over to Usagi and Minako's table, Usagi nervously slid the outline across the table to him. She could feel the blush rising in her face.

"You don't have any character sketches yet?"

Both girls blushed even redder and shook their heads.

"I see," he said. He started to read. "Hmm. There are a lot of spelling mistakes in here, and I really don't think that this is the kanji you wanted to use here, unless the princess has her memories restored by means of a magical ball of yarn. Still..."

His voice trailed off as he continued to read. "This is good. This is really good." He slid the paper back. "The two of you have obviously spent some time on this, and it shows. If you can come up with some good characterizations and good designs, you might have something here that would really sell."

"How about that!" gloated Minako. "Now all we have to do is get these characters done, and..."

They both looked at the clock. There was only one hour left until the class critique. Both girls bent over their sketchbooks with a will, drawing, erasing, coloring, neither one looking at the other's work until the teacher gave them the five minute alert.

"Whew! I never thought we'd finish! I only got the Queen, her friends, the King, and the creature drawn. What about you? Please tell me you drew the King's guardians," said Minako.

"Sorry. I drew the same ones you did." Usagi shrugged. "They're the main characters, though. The rest don't really matter, I guess."

"You're probably right. Hey, what did you do for the magical creature?"

"I did a dragon," said Usagi. "It turned out pretty good, huh?" She flipped the page over to the dragon. It looked more like a winged serpent, with dark scales, something like a mane, and translucent wings.

Minako stared, mouth open in a tiny 'o'.

"Good, huh?" said Usagi.

For response, a shaky Minako flipped to her drawing of the creature. She too had drawn a winged serpent. There were a few minor differences between the pictures--Minako's dragon had cherry red eyes and solid black scales while Usagi's had maroon eyes and green highlights on the otherwise black body--but the main details were the same.

"Oh," said Usagi.

"Did you do one of a woman in armor with honking big wings and carrying a spear?" asked Minako.

Usagi flipped to that picture.

They then compared other pictures. The styles varied, as did the poses of the characters, but anyone could have seen that they had drawn the same seven characters. The Queen. The King. The Dragon. Each had drawn something like a wood nymph and a water sprite. There was the woman in armor, and another woman who carried a large scroll and wore a red, hooded robe.

Two minutes left.

"This is weird," said Minako. "Really weird."

"We should tell the others," said Usagi, even as she felt her heart sink within her. She'd had one year of normality, and now...

The teacher once again cleared his throat.

"Time's up," he called.

**6:59 p.m.**

After target practice, Taiyouko used the remainder of her day off to clear her desk of some paperwork that would otherwise not get done during the next couple of weeks of investigating and babysitting. For her, knowing that the busywork was taken care of was just as refreshing as a day at the beach and a couple of glasses of Chardonnay. At six-thirty, feeling she had merited a mini-vacation, she decided she would spend the rest of the evening stitching and watching television. She had just finished sorting out the beads and floss she would need when the phone rang.

It took her a few seconds to realize that it was her cell phone, not her regular phone. That meant it was work. Please, oh please, let it be Keisuke and not some new case.

"Seidou here," she snapped.

"Seidou-san? It's Takamori."

Taiyouko's mood shifted. "Keisuke! Just the man I was thinking about."

"I won't pass that on to my wife, if you don't mind." She could practically hear the grin on the other end of the line. "I think we have our boy's number."

She sighed. "Please don't tell me you worked all day on your day off, Keisuke."

"I'm afraid I did," he admitted, "though little of it was on this case. There was a little matter of some filthy gutters and a softball game, but I was able to swing by the Keiou campus and ask around on the off chance that I could find someone who knew our Mr. Chiba. I got us a phone number _and_ an address. I also found out that he's not in classes so much as he's in clinical rotation--whatever that is."

"Not bad, not bad." She made a mental note to have a little talk with the head of Campus so-called Security about educating these supposedly smart students. Keisuke's tactics were the same ones used by a piece of human garbage who had stalked, raped, and killed three young women before Taiyouko and Keisuke could run him to ground. She was still fuming at the way the Tokyo University staff had hushed things up in order to save face. "Three points to Detective Takamori."

He sighed. "Only two points, I'm afraid. The gutters are clean, we have our boy's number, but Misako's softball team was utterly destroyed. We've tried everything, up to and including ice cream, to cheer her up, but nothing works. Ready for the number?"

"Just a sec." Taiyouko rifled through the cross-stitch supplies she'd laid out for the evening's entertainment. At last she found a mechanical pencil. Miracle of miracles, it actually had lead in it. "Ready."

Keisuke gave her the number and she jotted it down on the edge of her cross-stitch pattern.

"Are you going to call tonight?" he asked.

Taiyouko looked longingly at the half-completed angel she was stitching. "Probably," she said. "That way I won't waste any time tracking him down tomorrow. I'll see you bright and early, and thanks again for the good work. Tell Misako-chan I'm sorry she lost, and that she should be a good sport and a gracious loser, and that Auntie Taiyouko will track down the other team's pitcher and break her kneecaps."

After she hung up with Keisuke, Taiyouko stared at the phone for what seemed like a long time. Somewhere far back in her mind she felt the old fury tense and crouch as if to spring. Making this call might very well be the thing that would throw open the gate and release this beast. She stifled a cough.

For the first time in her long career, Seidou Taiyouko thought about giving up.

She could tell Harada that the case was too cold, that this International Police Association program would take too much of her time and energy, that there were other cases that were far more important. She could even tell him that she was finally going to use some of that vacation time she'd been stockpiling. Hell, she could even take early retirement, pack up her cross-stitching and quilting and move to Hokkaido.

But then she'd never know what all this was about. She would never be able to flush out this thing that had been haunting the edges of her mind since before she could remember.

Her hand paused on the receiver. If she called Chiba now, he'd have time to prepare for the interview. He might even decide to skip town. Then again, Saori Mishima probably warned him she'd call. She had nothing to lose. She lifted the receiver and dialed the number. Her boy answered on the second ring.

"Chiba Mamoru? This is Detective Seidou Taiyouko with the Tokyo Police. Some questions have come up in a case I'm working, and I was hoping you could help me out."

**10:45 p.m. **

Despite Saori's warning, the call had come as a shock. Maybe it was because he didn't think that this Detective Seidou would call on a Sunday. Maybe it was because he didn't really think any of this was real. It still didn't seem real.

He didn't have anything to worry about. He hadn't done anything wrong.

So why couldn't he fall asleep?

Mamoru stared up at the ceiling with his hands tucked behind his head. He could still hear the cool, slightly raspy voice that had been on the other end of the line.

"Chiba Mamoru? This is Detective Seidou Taiyouko with the Tokyo Police."

He wondered what sort of person went with that voice. It had betrayed no emotion, no particular sense of urgency. If anything, it sounded faintly amused.

"Some questions have come up in a case I'm working, and I was hoping you could help me out."

Still, there was something about that voice that cut straight through to a very old part of his brain.

"It's important that we get together as soon as possible. I was thinking tomorrow afternoon or evening. What time should I stop by your apartment?"

It was the part of the brain that cued an adrenaline surge and tightened the muscles to brace the body for impact. It caused the same sort of sensation as when he had once tripped at the head of a flight of steps and almost didn't catch himself before he fell. He didn't even realize until an hour afterwards that Detective Seidou hadn't given him the option of _not_ meeting on Monday. What would have happened had he tried to refuse?

"I'll see you at three, then," she said when he stammered out a time.

From the tone of her voice, she could have been agreeing to meet for high tea or telling him when he'd be facing the firing squad. He remembered looking at the few possessions he'd accumulated, his photographs, his furniture, his books, his music collection. What would she make of them? What would they betray about who he was? What did his housekeeping say about what sort of person he was? Were the magazines too straight on the coffee table? Would she know if he deliberately knocked them crooked? Would it look suspicious if he dusted?

He remembered that first time he'd brought Usa-ko here, right after he'd found out she was Sailor Moon and just before she found out that he was Tuxedo Kamen. He hadn't meant to leave his mask and jacket out where she could see them when she woke from her faint, but he had left them, and Usa-ko put two and two together. But then, he'd wanted her to find out. Now, his outfit appeared in a transformation like that of the other Senshi, but he still wondered if the detective would somehow _know_ that the tuxedo, cape, and domino mask were there, just below the surface.

Don't be silly, he told himself. He had nothing to worry about. He hadn't done anything wrong.

But he did have something to hide.

He wondered if he should tell Usa-ko, as Saori had suggested. He didn't want her to worry, though. More specifically, he didn't want her to worry about _him_. He hated that he did not have the kind of defenses that could stand up to the enemies they faced. He had fallen so easily, so many times. Beryl. Black Lady. Galaxia. Each in her own way had used him as a weapon against Usa-ko. He had hurt her terribly, if not in body, then in her heart.

He could never not love Usa-ko. He loved her goodness. He loved her willingness to forgive, to love, and to believe the best of people. He even loved her silliness. Specific memories drifted through his sleepy, wakeful mind--Sailor Moon getting drunk on champagne, Usa-ko baking cookies with salt instead of sugar, the two of them tumbling from a balcony with only a magical umbrella to slow their fall, Usa-ko begging him for a silly little kaleidoscope--and he could not help but smile and chuckle softly to himself.

Once, he had been stupid enough to believe that it would be better if Usa-ko did not love him, and he had even tried to push her away that one time when he was desperately ill. He had learned though, that she needed him. She needed his strength, even if he did not yet understand exactly what that strength was.

Right now, she needed his strength more than ever. In pursuit of his medical degree, he had taken a few psychology courses. Maybe it was because of this that he noticed how Usa-ko startled easily, or how her mood shifted suddenly into tears and towards something he feared was despair. Other times, he had caught her staring into space, or he could practically hear a _twang_ from nerves stretched taut. Mako-chan was the only other one who seemed noticed that anything was amiss. At least, she was the only one who'd approached him about it.

"She's acting the same way she did after Galaxia, well, you know..."

Killed him. Killed him right in front of Usa-ko.

"... anyway, she somehow made herself forget what happened. She did a good job for a while, even had the rest of us fooled, but then she started acting kind of squirrelly." Mako-chan's eyes had been hazy with worry. "Sort of like she's acting now. It really only started oh, about six months ago, to be honest," she admitted when he pressed for clarification.

It finally hit him. Six months ago was Christmas Eve. The night he had finally proposed to her.

His initial attempt at a proposal had been gruesomely interrupted by the power-hungry Galaxia. He thought he had waited long enough since the incident. Everything had calmed down, and it looked like Usa-ko was going to finish up her second year of high school without too much trouble. He thought that the festivity of the holiday would drown out the memory of that horrible day in the airport. Obviously, it hadn't been enough.

PTSD was the clinical-sounding abbreviation used in his psychology courses. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Her behavior certainly fit the diagnostic criteria.

He knew what the problem was, but what was he going to do about it? Two psych courses didn't exactly make him a licensed psychotherapist.

One thing he would do about it, he told himself firmly, was to keep quiet about this police interview until it was all over. Saori suggested that it could be about almost anything. An investigation into some hidden part of one of his professor's lives. Some incident he'd witnessed that had seemed unimportant at the time. Once it was over, it would just be some interesting story, something that he might be able to turn into a joke.

After all, he himself had done nothing wrong.

He had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

Sometime in the small hours of the morning, Mamoru finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Coming up in Chapter Four: Various characters meet each other for the first time, one of the Senshi encounters a new enemy, Haruka gets a little closer to nature, Mamoru asks a friend for a favor, and the Senshi learn the value of having a telephone chain.


	4. Intersections

Chapter Four: Intersections

**Monday, July 2**

**6:30 a.m.**

The hotel alarm clock went off with an apologetic beep. Jason opened his eyes to the sight of a hotel room so bland and inoffensive it was easier to believe he was in Toledo than in Tokyo. He had been awake for the past few minutes, aware of being uncomfortably cold, but not quite awake enough to get up to do anything about it.

Whoever installed the air conditioning evidently believed that most hotel guests enjoyed having to play Find the Thermostat. After the first night of refrigeration, he'd searched everywhere for the control, including the closet, but with no success. The front desk told him where to find the hidden panel on the register, but the knob he'd twiddled only adjusted the flow of air from brisk to hurricane-force and back again.

The bedspread, which might have provided some warmth, was way over in the far corner of the room. From the look of things, it had been tied into a big knot.

"Not again," he groaned. He dragged the bedspread back to the bed while taking a quick survey of the room. At least there wasn't any real damage this time. His reading glasses were under the register, but did not appear to be broken. The hotel binder with its unhelpful information about Tokyo was behind the desk, with half of its pages ripped to shreds. The desk, nightstand, and dresser drawers were all pulled out. Fortunately, the bedside lamp had suffered no harm from being knocked to the floor.

It took only a token effort to put everything back and dump the shredded pages in the wastebasket. What a time to have a nightmare, he thought. When he moved in with his host family that night, he would have to check the bedroom for any breakables or movables and put them somewhere safe. If things got really bad, he'd just break out the sleeping pills.

Last night's dream had been a replay of the old standby, with him being crushed, trapped, frozen, and/or drowned in an endless cycle, so it wasn't that much of a surprise to find the room trashed. He checked his reading glasses for scratches, and put them back in their case.

As Jason got dressed, he couldn't help but study the dimpled scar on the right side of his chest. Over the past three years, it had become part of the normal topography of his body, but now that he was here, now that he was finally doing what had to be done, its presence triggered a familiar resentment.

The scar was his own personal mark of Cain. Thanks to the wound that had left it, he now had a head crammed full with more memories and worse memories than any one person should have. If it hadn't been for Luther Mahoney and family, he would still be living in blissful ignorance of who he was and what he had done.

He clenched his teeth as he tied his necktie, jamming the knot up noose-tight. Just remember, he thought, Luther is deservedly rotting in hell, along with his harpy sister and her miserable little demon-spawn. Anger began to tingle through him like electricity.

Why did he have to _remember_? Instead of being on some wild goose chase on the other side of the world, he should be back in Maryland, worrying about his clearance record, paying his mortgage, helping Josh restore the GTO, playing basketball, nagging his mother to see the doctor about her stomach pain, playing with the dog, rooting against the Yankees, trying to meet a nice girl, going fishing with Josh and Jeremy, saving for retirement, running up his tab at the Waterfront...

Why couldn't he just forget everything again and go back to his life as an average cop?

The reading lamp clattered to the floor, startling him out of his reverie.

Well, maybe not exactly an _average_ cop, he thought with a crooked smile. He set the reading lamp back on the nightstand. Enough of his natural humor had returned for him to remember the way his mother would always ask her complaining children if they would care for some cheese with that whine.

Even that small memory was a great comfort. For a while, he had barely been able to remember his own family. He might be able to recall the names and birthdays of his brothers, sisters, and mother, but for a frightening six months after he woke up in that hospital in Norfolk, those people felt like strangers. As far as he knew, he would spend the rest of forever as in some sort of twisted play, in the role of Jason Wright, talented detective dancing on the edge of terminal burnout. During the months following his brother Jacob's death and his own... little adventure, he could only go through all the motions of grieving, loving, fighting, reconciling, and so on.

When he finally confessed to a therapist a fraction of what he was going through, she told him that he shouldn't worry. He'd been through a lot, she said. Some degree of emotional distancing was perfectly natural in his circumstances. She wasn't even surprised that Jason said he felt guilty for his brother's death, and she tried to get him to visualize Jacob telling him that everything was all right and that he was forgiven. He pretended to go along with it, mostly so she would quit mucking around in his id and certify him as fit for duty again. He had to admit, it did make him feel better. Sort of.

There was another reason he'd bluffed his way through therapy. If he were to go through with her silly little touchy-feely exercises, it could mean owning up to the hidden life and the other identity that had threatened to erase Jason Wright for all time.

Eventually, things returned to something resembling normal. As far as he could tell, no one had noticed anything odd about his behavior. But then, he had always been a very good actor.

For nearly two years after things settled down he could almost convince himself that all of these memories were just a dream. But there were so many little details. All those weeks he could not account for. The gap in his passport. The odd particulars from another life that were so consistent and so strange that he knew he never could have invented them. The records from the hospital in Norfolk. The names. The searing image of a burning angel...

No. He was not going to think about that.

Three names. The closest thing he had to solid evidence. Over the past nine months, he had used his police connections to do a little digging. None of the names turned up in any U.S. law enforcement databases, but that was no surprise. An old friend of his with the RCMP was able to connect one of the names to a missing persons case, but the case file told him nothing he didn't already know.

Of the two names that were left, one could probably lead him to some telling records, but only if he were some sort of genius hacker. The third name held some promise, but he didn't have the kind of contacts in England that he had in Canada.

Of course, there was always the possibility that they had all fled Tokyo. But he could look.

And if that failed, and he could not find his old friends, well...

He knew exactly how and where to find his old enemies.

**7:55 a.m.**

Monday mornings were hectic for the Senshi, even when they weren't being attacked by youma, daimons, renegade senshi, or time-traveling outlaws. After two days of sleeping in, it was a pain to get ready for school, or college classes, clinical rounds, or graduate-school seminars. Uniforms had to be found, an outfit chosen and coordinated, or clean-enough clothes rescued from the hamper. Papers and books and notes had to be gathered from kitchen tables, ironing boards, desks, studies, floors, nightstands, or from beside the tub. Those with parents were forced to sit still long enough to eat a decent breakfast. Those without were able to have leftover spaghetti, fruit salad eaten straight out of the container, a protein bar, nothing at all, or home-made cinnamon rolls.

This morning, however, the usual routine was broken into by a flurry of phone calls.

It all started when Ami, who had another strange dream on Sunday night, called Rei and asked if she'd had any odd dreams that weekend. Rei said that yes, she'd had some unusual visions. She'd tried to reach Michiru over the weekend, but Michiru had never called her back. She agreed that they should all meet at the shrine that afternoon after school.

Rei called Usagi's cell phone. Usagi said that she would talk to the others at school that day and that yes, they should definitely meet at the shrine after school, and that she and Minako had the weirdest experience at the manga-drawing seminar, and...

Mamoru called Usagi's cell phone and got a busy signal.

Once she got Usagi to shut up, Rei called Makoto. Makoto sounded sleepy and confused, but agreed to show up at the shrine, and what time were they meeting, again?

ChibiUsa called Hotaru and talked about getting together after school for ice cream.

Mamoru called the Tsukino household and got a busy signal.

Rei called the Outer Senshi's house and clicked in on call-waiting. Once she got ChibiUsa off the line, Hotaru dutifully handed the phone over to Michiru. Michiru said she hadn't had any strange dreams or visions, and handed the phone to Haruka. After saying that she hadn't had any weird dreams either, Haruka yelled something to Hotaru, then told Rei that Hotaru hadn't had any dreams either.

Haruka left a message at Setsuna's lab to tell her about the meeting.

Minako's mother yelled upstairs to her daughter to pick up the phone. It was Usagi. Usagi told Minako about the meeting after school, and asked Minako if she was ready for that morning's math quiz. Minako looked at the clock, jumped out of bed, and started getting dressed.

On her way out the door, Usagi told ChibiUsa about the meeting, and not to whine about it because Hotaru would be there too. She then tried calling Mamo-chan on her cell phone, but got a busy signal.

The phone rang several times at the Tsukino household before Ikuko-mama answered. "I'm sorry Mamoru-kun, but you just missed her. Have you tried her cell-phone?"

He was just about to pick up the phone to try again when Ami called to tell him about the meeting.

"I may be late," he said before she could tell him what the meeting was about. "Go ahead and start without me."

Mamoru tried Usagi's cell-phone again and got another busy signal. He muttered something nasty under his breath and looked up a different number.

Haruka bit back an impatient snarl as she told Usagi that yes, they did know about the meeting, and no, she didn't have any weird dreams, and was Usagi doing all right? Was she sure? Good. Then they'd see each other at the shrine that afternoon.

Usagi tried Mamo-chan one more time. Another busy signal. Who could he be calling at this time of the morning, she thought with the tiniest twinge of jealousy.

Minako rolled her eyes as her mother yelled upstairs again about the phone. They'd see each other at school, so why did her friends insist on calling her and getting her in trouble with her mother? She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

She paused, blinked, and held out the phone to an equally puzzled white cat.

"Artemis? It's for you..."

**8:12 a.m.**

Hotaru was putting on her shoes just as Haruka was telling Rei that she hadn't had any strange dreams either.

"Oi! Hotaru-chan!" Haruka called. "You haven't had any kind of strange visions or dreams recently, have you?"

Hotaru was tempted to pretend that she hadn't heard Haruka call after her, but it wasn't worth the trouble. Besides, if this was Senshi business, it would be stupid to ignore it.

"No, I haven't had any kind of strange visions or dreams recently, okay? Is there anything else, Haruka-papa? I'm going to be late if I don't leave right now."

Haruka grimaced at her and waved her on as if Hotaru wasn't perfectly aware that she was running late. "Go straight to the shrine after school. We've got a meeting," she said, not even telling her what it was about or checking to see if Hotaru had any plans or anything.

I'm fourteen, thought Hotaru as she ran down the driveway. Why does Haruka-papa insist on treating me like I'm a two-year old?

Because you are, replied the more rational part of herself. Just a little over two years ago you were an infant, remember?

How could she forget? Everywhere in the house she shared with Haruka, Michiru, and Setsuna, there were pictures of baby Hotaru, of toddler Hotaru, of a child-Hotaru wearing a checkered sundress, or splashing in a wading pool, or holding a violin that was half as tall as she was.

After Sailor Saturn rained destruction down on Pharaoh 90, Pluto sealed the monster off in space and time. Saturn should have died then, but through Sailor Moon's power, Hotaru had been brought back to life as an infant. The Outer Senshi had been father and mothers to her, caring for her as she grew from infant to toddler to a five-year-old in less than a year.

Then, one night, as a secret cancer drained the life and spirit out of the Earth, an already rapidly aging Hotaru grew seven years in as many seconds.

There were very few pictures of teenaged Hotaru in the house.

As Hotaru walked along the empty street, she called forth an image of a spinning solar system, planets congealing out of whirling dust. It wasn't fair. If she wanted to, she could blast the entire solar system back to primordial dust, but she still couldn't stay out past ten, even on weekends.

The mock solar system flung itself outwards into nothingness. Hotaru sighed. Lately, it felt like she was angry all of the time. Sometimes, just hearing Haruka's voice was like listening to a cat sharpening its claws on a blackboard. Even when Haruka was just calling her down to dinner, it was all Hotaru could do not to roll her eyes and sass her 'father' back.

_I've got it good_, she reminded herself. _They love you. They're not using you as the host for some alien organism or turning you into some freakazoidal cyborg. Not like your 'real' father. You have friends. ChibiUsa-chan is back. Your new classmates don't look at you like you're some kind of mutant._

After staring living nightmares in the face, the Darwinian social order of junior high just didn't seem all that frightening. Hotaru entered eighth grade that spring with an air of confidence that warded off those looking for others to knock down in the pecking order. She had money, lived in a nice house with a famous race-car driver and an even more famous violinist, but never bragged about it or acted like it made her better than anyone else. Plus, as she grew, everyone could see that she was a beautiful girl, with alabaster skin, deep violet eyes, thick black hair, and a figure like a 1920's fashion plate. The very things that had made her former classmates brand her as 'creepy' or 'gloomy' now cemented her status as one of the 'cool' kids.

The change in her status was still new enough to make her light-headed. Hotaru-the-freak was finally on the top of the heap, not the bottom. The fact that she was genuinely friendly to everyone, even the social rejects, only made her that much more popular. It was a rare day that did not see at least one love-letter tucked into her shoe locker. She had almost filled one whole album with them.

So why wasn't she happy? She should be happy, shouldn't she? Hotaru kicked a rock along the sidewalk as she walked, wishing it wasn't so sunny out. When she felt like this, she wanted the sky to match her mood. She wanted dark and clouds and rain.

Then it happened. A feeling like a cold wind passing over the earth.

Hotaru stood silent, looking up at the sky. A single leaf tumbled through the air. In contrast to the growing heat and humidity, the sudden breeze smelled of autumn.

Something very old within Hotaru awoke, something that made her fourteen years seem like one beat of a mayfly's heart. Her eyes became dark and cold as she surveyed the area. Sailor Saturn was on the alert.

Destruction, she thought. No, not destruction. Something far, far more dangerous. Something much, much, older.

As she looked around, the sun disappeared behind a cloud. Despite her earlier musings, she wished it would come back.

A scuffle from a nearby lot caught her attention. No one was there that she could see. In fact, she was the only person on the street. She looked again at the lot. From what Michiru-mama told her, a new house was being built here. The foundation had been poured, and part of the framing was up. Piles of dirt and gravel from the excavation covered what would one day be the front yard. There were plenty of places for someone to hide. She set her briefcase on the ground and walked up the dirt path towards the half-built frame.

Whatever she'd felt was definitely coming from over here. She could sense it clearly. It wasn't sentient, or even alive, but Hotaru could recognize a boiling malevolence, and something resembling will.

She walked slowly between the mounds of earth, passing a wheelbarrow and shovel, seemingly abandoned mid-job. The wind batted a paper cup past her feet, its rattle punctuating the strange quiet.

Then, from behind her, came the skitter of falling gravel and a footstep heavy enough to shake the earth.

As she turned, she instinctively raised her hand in the air and cried out: "Saturn Crystal Power, Make Up!"

Rings of dark fire flashed around her as she changed, and an iron staff with two wicked-looking blades at one end materialized in her hand.

It was the first time in nearly a year that she had transformed. The visceral thrill of the ancient energy coursing through her body nearly overwhelmed her.

It almost killed her. She came to her senses just in time to duck the boulder aimed at her head. It missed her by millimeters, hitting the mound of debris behind her. She rolled to avoid the worst of the shrapnel and got back to her feet in one smooth movement that would have been impossible in her other form. Panting in surprise and fear, she looked to where the rock had come from.

Her attacker stepped out from behind one of the mounds. Saturn tilted her Glaive forwards, readying herself for another attack.

Despite all the horrors she had seen, Saturn's stomach turned when she saw what she was facing. It was roughly the same size and shape as a man. It was made of dirt and rock, and whoever had shaped it had been careless, even contemptuous, of the human form. Nothing was symmetrical. Strange, crumbling lumps protruded like malignant tumors. One of the creature's legs was shorter than the other, and its rolling gait was deceptively fast, she discovered as the creature nearly mowed her down. The arms hung down past the knees, and its neck was set so low that the misshapen head stuck straight out of its chest.

Deep dents--one near the center of the face, one halfway down the right cheek--served as eyes. A jagged and twisting crack suggested a mouth. It looked like something suffering from some horrible birth-defect, or a warning of what humanity might one day become. What sort of hatred must have gone into this thing's creation?

It lunged for her. A sweep of the Glaive took out a chunk of the thing's shoulder and neck, but that only slowed it for a second. It tromped right over the wheelbarrow, crushing it like a soda can.

Saturn got another look at its face before she had to somersault back out of its reach. Only one thing about the creature spoke of any care in its shaping. Right in the middle of its forehead was an elegantly and clearly incised mark, like something from some alien alphabet.

One fist came swinging down, and shattered the rock where she was standing just a microsecond before. She almost wished it would speak, or insult her, or something, not just keep coming at her silently like this. She ducked a lethal back-hand and used the Glaive to parry the arm as it swung back in a haymaker. The end of the creature's arm sheared off, but the force of the blow ripped the Glaive from her hands. It clattered to the ground. Every bone in her arms sang with pain.

Hand to hand or hand to Glaive wasn't going to cut it with this thing. Her hands and arms burned, both with pain and with healing, and she feared that the creature's blow had broken something in her left arm. Her hand wouldn't even move. She was barely able to pick up and hold on to the Glaive with her right hand. She had to retreat, had to win the few crucial seconds she needed to summon one of her attacks, had to run, now, while terror held the worst of the pain at bay.

Sailor Saturn could ward off attacks with a Silence Wall, or to shatter an enemy with a Silence Glaive Surprise. She would try the Wall first. She had just enough presence of mind to know that if she could get a closer look at this thing, she might get some idea of what it was, or who might have sent it. Then she would blast it to bits.

"_si--silence wall_..." she whispered, and the energy sphere sprang into place around her.

The mud-man walked through the Wall as if it wasn't even there.

A two-fingered hand reached for Saturn's throat.

Instinct took over. She took one last, desperate swing at the mud-creature.

Her weakened right arm could only manage a feeble blow, but by sheer luck, she struck the monster square on the head, embedding the Silence Glaive's shorter blade right in the middle of its brow.

The thing simply and silently collapsed into a heap of gravel and dirt.

Saturn collapsed too, right down on her rear. She just sat there for a few minutes, shivering with pain and covered with the remains of the monster. She could feel something going wrong with the healing in her left arm. The flesh of her forearm twitched and spasmed, grinding bone against bone and turning ordinary pain into agony. Saturn looked at the twisting, jumping skin, and something in her stomach twisted and jumped in response.

Her healing power was trying to get the break back in alignment, but it wasn't enough. She'd have to pull the bone back into place so the healing could do its job.

She gave an experimental pull, and the world went black.

_Okay_, she thought, _I'll pull it back into place right after I throw up._

It took nearly twenty minutes to get the bone back into place. Five minutes to screw up the courage to yank on an arm already screaming in agony, and fifteen to hover on the edge of passing out.

Once her healing powers had taken care of the worst of the shock and pain, she went back to where she had left her briefcase. She had to carefully prop the Glaive upright against one of the dirt piles. If she put it down, she might not be able to pick it up again. The one good thing about Mistress 9's takeover of her body and her father's cyborg implants was that she had some experience dealing with intense pain. Even so, now that she had the time to notice how much she hurt, it was a struggle not to throw up a second time. Her left hand was still throbbing and swollen. The index finger on her right hand didn't want to bend, but she was able to open the case and check inside. She looked to see if she had her Senshi communicator with her. Nope. Of course not. A whole year had gone by with nothing more than a couple of random incidents, so why would she carry it with her?

If she couldn't reach the others by phone between classes, she would have to wait until they met that afternoon. Right now, however, she had to figure out how she was going to explain being tardy. Haruka-papa would have a fit if she got detention. It would take at least an hour before her hands and arms were back to normal. If she went in this condition, she'd have more to explain than why she was late to school.

School? She'd nearly gotten killed by a dirt-thing and she was worried about school? Sailor Saturn limped home at superhuman speed, Silence Glaive in one hand, briefcase tucked under her arm. With any luck, Haruka or Michiru would still be home.

Of course she'd only just missed them. Saturn called the junior high office and told them that Hotaru would be out sick. Hopefully, her Saturn voice sounded different enough from her normal voice that the school secretary wouldn't question it.

Her right hand was now healed enough for her to write a note for the others, briefly explaining what had happened.

She really should go back to the construction site to see if there was anything there she had missed, but she was in no shape to fight if another one of those things showed up. Instead, she went into the living room, propped the Silence Glaive up against the stereo cabinet, and flopped down on the couch for a nap, not even bothering to transform back to Hotaru. Now that she was no longer walking around, she could feel the healing working more swiftly. Her body began to relax as the pain faded away. If only her mind could relax as well.

All she could think about was how close it had been. She didn't even know how she had beaten the mud-thing. A hiccup-like sob escaped. What if she'd been killed? How long would it be before anyone noticed she was gone? Would Michiru-mama and Haruka-papa know where to look for her? What if the monster took her with it? Would they ever know what happened to her? Maybe they'd just think she ran away.

She could not stop asking herself 'what if.' Saturn was now shaking with sobs, and hot tears pooled up in her eyes and ran down into her hair. Would anyone even miss her? Part of her knew she knew she was silly to even think such a thing, but the thought still twisted painfully in her heart and in her gut.

Shaken, in pain, and so very, very tired, the Senshi of ruin and rebirth eventually cried herself to sleep.

**10:45 a.m.**

"So, Seidou-san. This puts a bit of a cramp in things."

Taiyouko growled and didn't even look up at her partner. Keisuke was always cheerful, even on Monday mornings, which should be outlawed. Surprise, surprise, the stupid exchange program had already thrown her a curve. She was supposed to host one of the American detectives. She had even set up a nice little cot in her bedroom that morning.

"Who would have guessed that all of the women would end up going to departments outside of Tokyo? You aren't going to let them make you host a male houseguest in your apartment, are you?"

"Why not?" she snapped. "I'll just be sure to keep my softball bat under the bed in case he gets frisky."

Keisuke wisely chose not to comment on that remark, and took another tack. "Seidou-san, it's not fair to him to make him sleep on your couch for four weeks. Besides, you'd end up killing him."

True enough, Taiyouko thought.

"I'll just bring him home with me," Keisuke continued. "We can set up the study as a guest bedroom--we've done it dozens of times for my mother-in-law." He settled back in his chair, satisfied with himself for having solved the problem.

"Keisuke," said Taiyouko, still not looking up from the piece of paper she was studying, "you consider yourself and Akiko to be happily married, don't you?"

"Of course!" he replied, surprised and obviously more than a little insulted.

Taiyouko finally looked up at him, staring him straight in the eyes. "Do you want to _stay_ happily married?"

He nodded.

"Then call Akiko and _ask_ her if it's okay if you bring a total stranger to come stay in your house for a month."

Keisuke paled, then scrambled to pick up the phone, nearly knocking it off the desk in his haste.

Taiyouko turned her attention back to the profile given to her that morning. This detective was from Baltimore. That was somewhere near Boston, wasn't it? He'd gotten an associate's degree (whatever that meant) nine years ago, worked as a uniformed officer for three years, commendations, etc., etc. Promoted to detective three years later, assigned to Narcotics. Lots of arrests, two major undercover busts, commendations, etc., etc. Transferred to Homicide in December of the following as one of their youngest detectives, commendations, blah-de-freaking-blah. Had a 100 percent clearance rating last year. She looked at his D.O.B. and shuddered.

Twenty-eight years old? 100 percent? _Save me from child prodigies_, she thought. The photograph did not bode well, either. This Detective Wright had Paul Newman-blue eyes, and a thatch of dark blonde hair. Even when presented with just a photograph, she felt an urge to reach out and brush the hair out of his eyes. His features were on the rough side of delicate, not quite boyish, not quite rugged. _Nice_ cheekbones. Someone that good looking had to be aware of it. Everything about the boy screamed out 'insufferable.'

Keisuke had to clear his throat to get her attention. He flicked a glance towards Harada-san's office. Oh goody. Time to meet Wonder Boy.

# # #

Jason said farewell to the other participants in the exchange program early that morning, watching as they were shipped off to Kobe, Kyoto, Osaka, Sapporo, and elsewhere. Two F.B.I. agents and a member of the Atlanta P.D. bomb squad were staying in Tokyo, but were assigned to the task force that had worked the Aum Shinrikyo subway attack and was currently working to prevent similar incidents.

Now, Jason had been brought to Harada Kenichi's office. He had to wait outside for a minute or two while the other man finished up a phone call. Jason watched through the louvers as the portly man paused for a moment after hanging up the phone to wipe his brow with an oversized handkerchief. Harada's cheeks were bright red, but despite his bulk, he did not appear as if he were normally florid-faced. That must have been some phone call, thought Jason. He was glad he was only a visitor, and not likely to have to deal with the fallout from whatever that call was about.

Harada looked up at Jason, a flash of irritation fading into nothing but the most serene goodwill. "I am sorry for your waiting, Detective Wright," he said in decent, if deliberate, English. "In my job there are things which must not be lingered."

"No apology is needed, Harada-san," said Jason in barely-accented Japanese. Harada jerked almost imperceptibly in surprise. "Most criminals don't do us the courtesy of scheduling their crimes with us."

"I didn't realize that you spoke Japanese, Wright-san." The faint 'o' sound appended to his last name brought a nostalgic smile to Jason's face. "My compliments on your accent."

"To be perfectly honest, Harada-san, I was born in Japan, and my family lived here until I was ten. My accent is no more an accomplishment than it would be for any Japanese child. Still, it is very kind of you to say so," he said, accepting the compliment with the expected modesty.

Harada smiled. "Whatever the case may be, I'm glad I won't have to translate for Detective Takamori. Detective Seidou, on the other hand, speaks excellent English. Would it be too much of an imposition to ask if you could speak in Japanese while we're together?"

"Not at all." In fact, the more Japanese he heard on the street, in the hotel lobby, on the subway, the more he noticed himself starting to think in Japanese. He wondered what kind of culture shock he would experience when he returned to Baltimore. _If_ he returned to Baltimore.

"Detective Seidou might be a little... unorthodox, but is probably our top detective," Harada said, "and Detective Takamori has put in many years of excellent service with the department. You should get an excellent idea of how we operate by working with the two of them."

Translation: Seidou had pissed off a lot of the higher-ups in the department, but was too good at his job to be let go. Takamori was a dependable plodder who probably didn't have much in the way of imagination, but could be counted on to cross the 't's and dot the 'i's, and help keep people like Seidou in check.

Harada called in the two. Jason was mildly surprised to see that one of the detectives was a woman. She bowed curtly but respectfully to Harada and Jason. The other detective also bowed, but with genuine welcome. He tried to see if he could figure out which was Seidou and which was Takamori before formal introductions were made.

The man was a well-preserved forty-something in a respectable gray suit. The tie had a dark navy background with a small pattern that turned out to be miniature cartoon characters. A quick glance told him that yes, the man did wear a wedding band. The dependable family man. This would be Takamori, then. He was of average height, average build, average features, average everything. His hairline was just starting to retreat to the highlands, and his expression mixed good humor with mild fretfulness. All in all, he reminded Jason of a Japanese incarnation of Bob Newhart.

If he had to guess, he'd place the woman in her early forties. The expression on her face reminded Jason of something his mother had said about her own mother: "She's just like Santa Claus, except she's mean." Her navy pantsuit was clean, but that was all that could be said on its behalf. She was maybe five-two, tops, but wore beat-up loafers rather than heels. The honey-brown hair was cut in a wash-and-wear bob that showed a good half-inch of mousy gray at the roots. She wore no makeup and no jewelry other than a sports watch, and was about twenty pounds heavier than fashionable.

Seidou was about a foot shorter than Jason, but he felt like she was the one looking down, and he was the one looking up into unusually pale hazel eyes, eyes that were more gold than green or brown. Any moment now, she'd be asking him if he'd been naughty or nice, and heaven help him if he'd been naughty, because she sure as hell wouldn't.

"Jason Wright, may I introduce Seidou Taiyouko and Takamori Keisuke. They will be your hosts during your stay here." He invited the three of them to sit down at a table that had been set with a utilitarian coffee service. The strange inversion of perspective passed, but he could still feel Seidou studying him.

"So you're from Baltimore," she said bluntly, once they had been introduced. She spoke in English, with a faint British accent riding along with the Japanese. The huskiness of her voice suggested she was a habitual smoker. To his surprise, she actually started to gather cups with fluid, graceful movements as if preparing to pour coffee for the three men. Harada and Takamori looked surprised as well. Shocked, to be more precise. "What can you tell us about your city?"

"Home of the misdemeanor homicide," Jason replied in English, using one of his partner's favorite phrases. Seidou continued to watch him. He noticed that she held the coffee pot poised over the first cup, a tiny bead of dark liquid hanging on the edge of the spout like the sword of Damocles. The other two men seemed to be waiting for Rod Serling to pop in and deliver a monologue.

"Forgive me for saying this, Seidou-san," Jason said, "but you don't look like the kind of person who got where she is today by playing the proper little office lady." He spoke in Japanese.

Harada looked like he was about to have a coronary. Takamori eyed the door wistfully.

Seidou let out a short bark of laughter and continued to pour. "Harada-san, Keisuke, don't get used to this, okay?" Her Japanese sounded much less upper-crust than her English. "Detective Wright, I noticed you were sizing us up. It's good to know that you have the guts to act on your deductions," she looked up with a mischievous glint in her eye, "even when it might be dangerous. If you're a good boy, someday I'll tell you what I've figured out about you. So, now that I've gotten my laughs for the day, please tell us a little about your city."

After telling them a little about Baltimore, and assuring them that he was not joking when he said that having 262 homicides in one year was considered a _good _thing, in comparison to the 300 plus the year before. He talked in detail about some of the undercover work he had done when working in Narcotics, the whole culture of West Baltimore and its drug corners, and the people who struggled to break free of a vicious cycle.

When he told about his transfer to Homicide, he carefully avoided telling them about Luther Mahoney and company, even though his understanding of Mahoney's business methods was directly responsible for his transfer and promotion. The story was too complicated, and it might lead down some very unpleasant paths. Plus, there was something about the way Seidou stared at him with those intense, pale eyes that made him realize that she could be a match for Frank Pembleton when it came to interrogating a suspect and wringing out a confession. He would have to be very careful when approaching certain topics.

Eventually, Harada broke in to review the IPA rules and regulations with the three detectives. Jason was to act as an observer only, perhaps lending some assistance from time to time, but not in circumstances when evidence or witnesses might be compromised. He steepled his hands together, drumming the tips of his fingers together as he looked everywhere but in Detective Seidou's eyes. "That brings us to the matter of what case Detective Wright should assist you with."

Seidou apparently had all that sorted out already. "The two big cases Keisuke and I have right now are about ready to go to trial, so we're just waiting to see if the prosecution needs us to do any more digging. Since there's nothing to do there but hurry up and wait, I thought I'd have Detective Wright help us on the Chiba case, if you don't mind."

"I think that... the Chiba case," stammered Harada. "Why, why yes. That would, yes, the Chiba case would be most appropriate, thank you. An excellent suggestion, Detective Seidou."

At that moment, Jason and Seidou both gave each other a quick glance. What the hell, they both said without words, was all _that_ about? Seidou then winked at Takamori, and turned to Jason with a wide, sharky grin.

"So, Wonder Boy," she said. "Do you think that you and your hundred percent clearance record are up for a challenge that's over fourteen years old?"

This was going to be interesting, thought Jason, as he smiled genuinely for the first time since landing in Japan.

**11:00 a.m.**

Haruka's last class for the day was finally over. Through a little fancy planning, she'd managed to schedule her classes in a way that left her with most of Monday and Wednesday free.

She lifted her arms into the air, stretching luxuriously. In another hour she would be meeting Morimoto Shinji. Her father's old racing rival and best friend had to see to some business in Tokyo, and since he was going to be in town, he wanted to treat his favorite 'niece' to lunch at her favorite restaurant.

God, it would be good to see Uncle Shinji again. A good portion of the old guard, the men who'd essentially raised her, were still on the racing circuit, but with every passing year there were fewer and fewer familiar faces in the pit or behind the wheel.

If only Ami hadn't gotten this wild hair about some strange dreams, then she and Uncle Shinji could extend this visit into the dinner hour, the way they did on previous visits. If Michiru hadn't had any odd visions, then things couldn't be _too_ bad, could they?

Funny, though. Michiru hadn't slept well the past two nights. Last night had been especially rough. Haruka rubbed the bruise on her upper arm. She must have gotten clipped by a stray elbow. When Haruka, assuming nightmares, asked her what was wrong, Michiru had only gasped in mock horror that she had somehow hurt Haruka.

Haruka couldn't help grinning. Michiru had of course offered to kiss away the bruise. Who could resist such an offer? Michiru was a _very_ attentive nurse.

Since she wasn't in too much of a hurry, she took the long way across campus, so she could enjoy the walk. A guy sitting with a clutch of other students in the quad waved hello. Haruka waved back. She didn't remember his name, but they sometimes exchanged small talk while waiting for lit class to start.

A couple of girls, arm in arm and giggling, said a giddy hello as they passed her. Haruka nodded in acknowledgement, her smile a little more fixed. She enjoyed it when girls tried to flirt with her, but it could get awkward if she didn't know if they thought she was a guy or a girl.

She respectfully greeted her history professor, who then told her that she had done an excellent job on her research paper on the Meiji reconstruction and would be getting an A. Good grades from this professor were as rare as the proverbial hen's teeth. Was this a great day, or what?

Haruka turned down one of the walkways leading back to where she stashed her bike, cheerfully returning the oak tree's greeting as she did so.

_Now wait just a minute, here._

Haruka studied the tree carefully. The whisper was not repeated, but a clump of leaves jostled suspiciously. There was no wind. She circled the tree, peering up into its branches. Deep in the darkness near the trunk of the tree, the shadows had a purple tinge. Haruka's jaw tightened. The darkness shifted, and a flash of white confirmed her suspicions.

"Hotaru-chan, what the _hell_ are you doing up there?"

Hotaru glared and sssh'd her.

"Cut the Dr. Evil routine," Haruka continued, but in a whisper. "Why aren't you in school? Why are you in a _tree_? Why are you wearing..."

Oh, shit.

"Why else would I be Sailor Saturn?" Hotaru whispered back. "We've got trouble."

"Again? Oh, that's great. That's just fu... antastic!" she finished. The last thing she wanted was for Hotaru to start swearing on top of everything else. "What's going on?"

A couple of students slowed to watch what Haruka was up to. "I'm having a private conversation," she snapped. "Now get going, unless you feel like starting something, all right?"

One student shook his head sadly, murmuring something about crazy, tree-hugging environmentalists, and the two continued on their way.

"Why didn't you call me or something?"

By way of answer, Hotaru held out something that resembled a wristwatch and dropped it. Haruka fumbled a bit, but was able to catch it.

"Rei-san's the only one who had her communicator with her. I can't reach Michiru-mama or Setsuna-mama, and Usagi-san has to keep her cell-phone off when she's in class."

"Hold on. I'm coming up there." Haruka jumped to reach one of the lower branches. She managed to pull herself only partway up, getting tree bark and dirt all down the front of her shirt in the process. Great. She didn't have time to go home, so she'd have to buy a clean shirt before meeting Uncle Shinji. She shouldn't have been so quick to label this a good day. Now, how was she going to get up this stupid tree? Well, there was one way, and it didn't look like anyone else was around at the moment...

A burst of deep blue energy lit up the tree, and a shower of leaves fluttered pathetically to the ground.

Sailor Uranus easily clambered up to where Saturn sat. The Silence Glaive lay cradled by two forking branches that looked frighteningly spindly to Uranus. "The way you treat that thing gives me the willies, Saturn-chan. It's not like it's your cheerleading baton or something."

She could practically _hear_ Saturn's eyes roll. "Gee, and I thought I could use it in my next routine to spice things up."

"That's not funny!"

One of the few memories that Uranus had of the Silver Millennium was watching the wave of destruction rip outwards from Titan to crash through the entire solar system and beyond.

"Sorry."

At least this time, she sounded like she might be genuinely sorry, so Uranus decided to let it slide. Was she this bad when she was in her early teens? Probably. Still, it didn't make it any more pleasant to be on the receiving end of it.

It was also strange to see the Senshi of Ruin and Rebirth behaving like an adolescent, complete with all of the hormonal hilarity that went on at that age. One thing that Uranus noticed early on about Saturn was that while the girl's Senshi personality and civilian personality were the most dichotomous of any of their little circle, there were times when the dark (and frankly, spooky) Saturn would peer out of Hotaru's eyes. On the other hand, there were times when dour Saturn would suddenly look or act like a girl in her early teens.

Brilliant idea, thought Uranus. Give the ability to pulverize the entire planet to someone who was going through the equivalent of permanent PMS.

"So, what happened? I know you wouldn't skip school unless it was really important." That last was warning as much as statement. Still, Hotaru was a good student, and took her studies almost as seriously as Ami. If she had skipped, then something must have really rattled her.

"I was on my way to school, when I sensed something strange coming from that construction site. You know the one?"

Uranus nodded. She noticed that Saturn's eyes had grown a little colder and darker.

"Whatever it was, I could tell it wasn't human. It didn't even seem to be alive, but it did seem malevolent, like a very sophisticated weapon. I went to investigate, and I was attacked by some sort of creature, something like a daimon or a lemure, but more powerful. More primitive. It looked like something a very young child might have sculpted out of clay, except this was made of dirt."

"A mud-man?"

Saturn nodded. "It was strong--it shattered rocks when it hit them. It also survived several direct hits from the Silence Glaive." She looked pensive, and Uranus suspected that the encounter had been a much closer call than Saturn wanted to let on. She resisted the urge to gather the younger girl into a tight hug.

"What about your other attacks?"

"It walked right through the Silence Wall." This time the voice was of a young girl trying not to show how frightened she was. "The only thing that stopped it was when I hit it in the head with the Glaive. It just fell apart. There was no death scream, no sign of any escaping magic. Just dirt."

Uranus was silent for a little while. "You did the right thing, coming here. I wonder if there's some way we can reach the others before this afternoon?" At least Rei was on the alert. Michiru shouldn't be too hard to track down, but Setsuna's schedule was so variable, she could be anywhere. Thank goodness Usagi, Ami, Minako, and Makoto were together during the school day. They could look out for each other. She didn't know where Mamoru was, but if trouble found him, Usagi should be able to sense it, and vice versa. "From now on, keep your communicator with you at all times, okay?"

"You're the one who didn't have yours with you. I had to bring it from home."

_Sigh_. "Point taken. I'm just saying that we need to be careful from here on out. I don't want anything to happen to you." Uranus reached out and squeezed the younger Senshi's hand. "I'm sorry you had to face that thing by yourself."

"It's okay. I took care of it." Saturn was trying to sound tough, but Uranus could detect a tiny wobble in her voice. "I left a note in case Setsuna-mama comes home before the meeting. Was that the right thing to do?"

"You did good," Uranus said. The plaintiveness in her daughter's voice made her eyes sting. She wanted to say more, but this sort of thing wasn't her strong point. Besides, the wobble in her own voice was more than tiny. "I'll be passing by Juuban High in a little while, so I'll stop to see if I can catch the girls between classes. Michiru gets out of rehearsal at noon. Could you meet her outside the music building? In civilian form? You can give her her communicator and tell her your story."

"Why can't you go?" Maybe Saturn was just curious, but the words came out as sharp and accusing.

Uranus tried to count to ten, but failed. "I have to be downtown at noon," she said. "Why do you always have to argue with everything I say?"

"I wasn't arguing! And I didn't say I wouldn't go!" Saturn grabbed the Glaive, dropped out of the tree and dashed off at full speed, scaring the hell out of a passing junior professor.

Uranus closed her eyes and leaned back against the roughness of the tree trunk. She had over-reacted. Again. No doubt Hotaru would spill the entire story to Michiru, and she would catch hell for it. Again.

She was barely out of her teens herself, so how could she be expected to raise a teenager? Hell, she couldn't even control her own temper enough to avoid snapping at a girl who was still on edge after a life and death battle! Boy, she was turning out to be a great parent, wasn't she?

**11:45 a.m. **

A young woman sat on the roof of an apartment building in Tokyo. It was not the same building she had visited on Friday night, with her gazing crystal, when she watched the Senshi at their gathering. She appeared to be doing nothing, not looking at anything, not thinking about anything, just sitting.

She was slender, not terribly curvy, and perhaps would be just a little taller than average height when standing. Her red-gold hair was pulled back in a braid, showing off a delicate jaw line and oval face to best advantage. She wore knee-high white boots and elbow-length white gloves. Her bodice was white, with a short lemon-yellow skirt and collar trimmed with paler yellow bows at the neck and waist. Two white opals graced her tiara and the bow at her collar.

Someone with that kind of coloring and that sort of outfit might be expected to have eyes of jade green, or silvery blue, or even deep amber or icy violet. In truth, her eyes were a dull, ordinary brown that looked like a mistake.

Her gazing crystal was cupped in the palm of one perfectly still hand. In the daylight, the crystal was almost invisible, with only a subtle refraction of the light telling of its presence. She paid no attention to the crystal. The bland, brown eyes just stared straight ahead, betraying nothing, with no sign of any intelligence lurking behind them.

She had been led to this building an hour earlier. By pure chance, she had spotted the white cat with the moon-mark on its forehead. It belonged to the girl with the orange glow--Venus, she reminded herself. Sailor Venus. Since she had nothing else to do, the girl leapt from rooftop to rooftop, keeping an eye on the cat as it trotted along the sidewalks of Tokyo. She did not think it in any way odd that the cat would carefully watch for traffic signals or only cross at marked crosswalks. You were supposed to obey the signals and use the crosswalks. Even _she_ knew that.

Eventually, the cat went into an apartment building, slinking in through a half-open basement window that emitted an odor of steam, bleach, and detergent. The girl retreated to the top of the building to wait.

She desperately wanted to go down and say hello to the kitty, but Mother had been firm with her about that. She was not to introduce herself to the other Senshi or their companions until the appropriate time. She was not to have contact with ordinary people, or allow them to see too much of her if she could avoid it. Instead, she was to observe the Senshi, see where they lived, see what they did, and most importantly of all, come tell Mother at once if anyone else was watching the Princess and her guardians.

"Of course you want to be with them," Mother said. "It's in your nature, after all. But you must be patient."

She did not like to wait. She saw the girls in their everyday dress as they went to school that morning, and it was only Mother's stern warning that kept her from running right up to them to say hello.

She should have met them on Saturday, but Mother had been concerned by the strange colors that the crystal had displayed on Friday night. Mother said not to worry too much about Sailors Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. Their concerns were different than those of the Princess's Guardian Senshi. Mother did not tell her what the black glow meant, or who that strange woman on the balcony had been.

It was the first time that the young woman had seen Mother worried by anything. Seeing Mother like that had made her feel unpleasantly trembly all over. Mother was quick to reassure her, however, saying that she would meet the Senshi soon enough.

Finally, Mother said it was time, but although she knew the civilian identities of the Senshi, she was not to approach them in that form. "It will only disturb them," she said. "They may think you are an enemy. When you see them in uniform, then you may introduce yourself to them."

"How will I find them?"

"Wait for the golems," Mother said. "If you follow the golems, you will find the Senshi. "You do remember what to do with a golem, don't you?"

"Yes, Mother," she said, pointing to the opal on her tiara. It hadn't been easy for her to memorize everything she needed to know about the Senshi and their enemies, but she had done it.

She remembered what Mother said about the golems. The golems were evil. The golems must be destroyed. If not, they would hunt down the Sailor Senshi and kill them like dogs.

She wondered how killing someone like a dog was different from killing them in some other way. Was it worse? Did it hurt more? One person she saw die had screamed and screamed and screamed for a very long time before he died. Was that what it meant to die like a dog?

It didn't matter. When the golems appeared, she would be ready. She would destroy them. Mother would be proud of her.

Until then, she would sit in the sun, waiting, just as Mother had told her to do.

Sailor Sun was a good girl. She always did what Mother said.

**12:25 p.m.**

"There she is," said Minako, "but it looks like she's headed over towards where Naru and all them usually sit."

"That's all right," said Ami, "we'll see her this afternoon."

"Forget that! There's something I've been dying to ask her, but I haven't had a chance." Minako stood up on her chair. "Usagi-chaaaan! We're over heeeeere!"

Ami slapped a hand to her forehead and Makoto gritted her teeth. Minako let it slide right off her back. She was the one getting the sidelong glances and generating the whispered comments, not them.

On the other side of the classroom, Usagi shrugged and smiled apologetically at Naru, then went to join her other friends.

"Is everything okay?" Makoto asked when Usagi got to their table. "They let us out for lunch ten minutes ago."

Usagi unwrapped her bento and said a perfunctory thanks before plowing right in. "I had to sneak outside to call Mamo-chan," she said between bites. "I kept trying to reach him this morning to tell him about the meeting, but I couldn't get through. The phone was busy."

"Oops. That was probably me. I called to tell him, too, but he practically hung up on me," said Ami. "That wasn't at all like him. I only had time to tell him that we were meeting at the shrine after school. He said to start without him. He didn't even ask why we were meeting."

"Did you manage to get through to him?" asked Makoto.

Usagi poked the contents of her bento. After her initial plunge into the box (which always reminded Minako of a school of sharks going after chum), Usagi had again stopped after eating half of her lunch. It was going to be another one of _those_ days, thought Minako.

"Yeah." She stirred the chopsticks around in the bento, picking apart what was left of her lunch. "He tried to call me this morning, but he claimed he couldn't get through. He wanted to tell me that he had some sort of meeting this afternoon, and that he wanted to get together afterwards after school. Well, after we meet at Rei's shrine, now."

"Um, I'm sorry to be all nosy and everything, but isn't that a _good_ thing?" asked Minako. "I mean, normally, you'd be doing your spazzy Usagi happy-dance all around the school if he wanted to get together with you on a school night."

"It's just that he sounded so tense, especially when he said that he had this meeting thing."

"Did he tell you what it was about?" asked Ami.

"No." Usagi jammed the chopsticks upright into the mess that now occupied her bento. "When I tried to ask him, he just said not to worry about it, that it was just something he had to take care of, and he'd tell me about it later."

"Oh, come on!" snapped Makoto. "I thought he stopped that kind of nonsense after that business with the Dead Moon!"

"Keep your voice down!" Ami said in an anxious whisper.

Makoto rolled her eyes. "It's too loud in here for us to be overheard," she said, but her voice was softer. "I'll have to have a word with him," she said in a voice with cracking knuckles in it. "I understand that he only wants to keep you from worrying, but doing this sort of thing is just ridiculous! Doesn't he realize that not telling you things only makes you worry more?"

"You'd think," agreed Minako. This fit in with the weird phone call she got from him this morning. Why on earth would Mamoru want to speak with Artemis? She'd meant to ask Usagi, but it sounded like Mamoru hadn't said much of anything to her. Oh, well. She could always get Artemis to tell her later. "Maybe he's got the male equivalent of pre-menstrual synonym."

At that point, the conversation had to be put on hold for a moment. Ami had just taken a swig of her juice when Minako made her last remark, and it took a while for her to stop coughing and regain her composure, and for Makoto to wipe off the front of her uniform.

"He wasn't like this on Saturday night," said Usagi. Her mood lifted, and her face didn't look quite so pinched. "I could tell that he had something on his mind, but once we got to dinner, he was fine. When we got back to his place, he gave me this _incredible_ pearl necklace! We had a really nice time." The look on her face became positively dreamy.

"Really?" purred Minako. "How nice was it?"

"Details, girl. We want details," added Makoto.

Ami groaned and Usagi flushed bright red. "You guys! Let's just say that it was... very nice, but nothing happened that would make my dad go after Mamo-chan with an axe if he found out about it."

"No axes. Check. But was there anything mallet-worthy, perchance?" asked Minako.

"Oh, maybe," Usagi said, with a very Setsuna-like smile on her face.

Ami had her face buried in her hands and was slowly shaking her head back and forth. At least she hadn't slid her chair over to another group and pretended not to know them, thought Minako.

"So, guys. What _is_ the deal with the meeting this afternoon?" asked Makoto. "More energy-sucking monsters rampaging through the streets of Tokyo?"

Oh, great, thought Minako as Ami shushed Makoto again. They finally get Usagi cheerful again, and Makoto has to go bring up business.

Fortunately, Usagi's little sinking spell seemed to have passed, and she was now packing away the remainder of her mushed up lunch like it was candy. "Well, some of us--me and Minako and Ami anyhow--have had some weird dreams. I guess Rei did too, since she called me this morning."

"And I called Rei," said Ami, "and she said that she'd had some visions when doing a fire-reading. Not exactly dreams, but still..."

"What about you, Mako-chan?" asked Minako.

Makoto looked puzzled. "I guess I'm feeling a little left out on this one, guys. My dreams haven't been anything special. There was one where someone was chasing me through the school and all the doors were locked. It was scary, but I've had nightmares like that before. I'd watched a horror movie before going to bed, so that was probably all it was."

Ami was tapping her fingertips against her mouth. Her eyes were focused on something inside her mind. "We'll have to see what the others have to say." She gave Makoto a gentle smile. "Don't feel left out, Mako-chan. Many people forget their dreams when they wake up. Maybe you did dream about something."

Makoto shrugged. She didn't look convinced.

"Anyway," said Usagi, "I just hope that this isn't something bad about to happen again."

"I know what you mean," said Makoto, matter-of-factly. Ami nodded her enthusiastic agreement.

"Uh-huh," said Minako. "Hey, lunch is almost over, so we'd better pack down."

"Up," said Makoto.

"Whatever." She could understand why Usagi, Ami, and Makoto were hoping that all this turned out to be nothing but a tempest in a stockpot.

She, on the other hand...

Minako didn't know where she got the image from, probably some foreign movie, but she could envision a pack of dogs milling around a red-coated man on horseback. The man would blow a hunting horn, and the dogs would always leap forward, yelping, on the scent at once. There was something in the way they ran and barked that was full of joy, that proclaimed that they were doing what they had been born to do.

Yesterday, when she and Usagi had looked at each other's drawings, she could have sworn that somewhere in the distance, someone had just blown a hunting horn.

She heard the horn, could hear it still, and all she wanted to do was run and follow that scent. To do what she was born to do.

**1:15 p.m.**

Taiyouko kept a close watch on Detective Wright over lunch, and later on as he studied the Chiba file. Despite her little game in Harada-san's office (it always amused her to watch him and Keisuke get all wound up) and her deliberate implication that she could read him like a book, she simply could not figure this man out.

One thing that surprised her was that an associates degree was not an advanced degree, but the opposite. "Why didn't you go for the bachelors degree?" she asked when they were at lunch. She waited to see if he got defensive. There was only a flash of it, followed by nothing but resignation.

"There were seven of us kids in my family, so there wasn't a lot of money to go around. I had a basketball scholarship, but after two years it was pretty clear that I wasn't quite good enough to go pro. Plus, there's something about playing a kid's game for obscene amounts of money that doesn't sit right with me."

This of course caused Keisuke the sports-freak to shanghai the conversation, and the two men launched into a dialogue that might as well have been in Farsi for all Taiyouko could follow. She let them go on while she thought about the way Detective Wright's eyes had shifted when he explained why he had given up on pro ball. There was something more to that story, something more than crushed childhood dreams, and she wondered how it connected to the sadness that never quite left his eyes.

She'd seen a similar look when he talked about his career back in Baltimore. He'd told the truth, and nothing but the truth, but not quite the whole truth. Something was bothering him, but what?

After two decades of police work, Taiyouko had come to a basic conclusion about human nature: everyone is guilty of something.

What had her foxed here was that she had no clue what Wright was hiding. Oh, she was no Sherlock Holmes, to be able to look at a man's shoes and deduce what train station he'd come from, what his occupation was, how he got along with his wife, what he'd named his children, and what he'd had for dinner three nights ago. But as she asked him questions, careful to sound conversational and not interrogatory, she got the feeling that she was skirting the edges of some big secret.

After lunch, Taiyouko gave up trying to pry anything else out of him for a while. It would only drive her crazy and it might just shut Wright up for good. Instead, she allowed Wright prove his intelligence by the questions he asked about her current case. Had casts been made of the cranial injuries? What kind of DNA database did the Metropolitan Police have access to, and would it be worthwhile to see if there was anything still in evidence that could be used for a sample? What indicators were there that the couple in the car were the boy's parents and not, for example, a babysitter and her boyfriend?

The boy even had the guts to question the tactics she used when first on the case fourteen years ago. Had she searched through missing persons reports? Grand theft auto reports? Kidnapping reports? Keisuke went wide-eyed and looked ready to dive under table, but Taiyouko just reached across and shook Jason's hand. She tried not to laugh when both men visibly sagged in relief.

"Welcome to the team."

When they got back from lunch, she let Jason take a look at the case file while Keisuke sorted through the various reports and statements he had collected that morning.

"Hold on a second," said Jason. "It's been a while since I've been here, but isn't this Chiba guy's apartment in a pricey part of town? At least it was when I was here. Yeah, yeah, economic collapse and all that, but those kinds of neighborhoods don't change that fast."

"One point to Detective Wright." Taiyouko was a big fan of the follow-the-money school of detection. Humans were greedy bastards. She couldn't even count the number of times she'd seen bank records lead to a solid conviction. "Keisuke, any luck on that front? Is he subletting?"

Keisuke slid a fax across to her desk. Jason was sitting at an awkward angle alongside their desks, and Taiyouko reminded herself to find him a place to sit where he'd have room for his legs.

"No. His name's on the lease, and has been since he was declared an emancipated minor at age sixteen. His rent is automatically transferred to the leasing office's account on the first of every month, but there's never any corresponding debit in his own savings or checking account. I've tried tracing it, but a simple query got me nowhere. It's quite possible that our boy doesn't know how much his place costs, or even who's paying his bills. I'll have to do some fancy digging to find out the source of the money."

"Damn! That's twice my own rent," snarled Taiyouko when she saw the fax. "Where's the justice in that? Find out who pays his college fees, if you can. Where'd he go to high-school--Azabu? Jeez, is this guy high-maintenance or what?"

"I don't know about high-school, but he has a full scholarship for med school, based on academics alone. It covers books and everything. Oh, and it looks like he qualified for a year's study at Harvard last year, but didn't go."

"Detective Takamori comes through again. Harvard, huh? And he bailed?"

"Does it say why?" asked Jason. "Maybe whoever's footing his bills doesn't want him leaving the country."

Keisuke shook his head. "I'll see what else I can find out. I'm still working on where he gets his pocket change. If I can get hold of his tax records..."

"Hold on," said Taiyouko, "let's think about this for a minute." Just through talking to him over lunch, she knew that Jason was pretty smart. She still hadn't ruled out 'insufferable,' though. With his wire-rimmed reading glasses, the boy looked like quite the little scholar. This would let her see how he handled himself in a real investigation. "Okay, Wonder Boy. Why might this guy's patron want to keep him in Japan?" she asked.

"Let's assume for a moment that all this is tied to organized crime. I know it's a leap, but not a huge one. Most mob hits are meant to take out someone within the organization who'd stepped out of line. The hit-men wipe out any evidence that could tie them to the crime, but those in the know would guess that this wasn't an accident, and that the same thing could happen them if they didn't straighten up and fly right. If it's a 'family firm,' the boss might not flinch at killing his own son, but grandkids are different."

Taiyouko nodded. "In other words, they may not have been expecting the kid to be in the car, and they had a nasty surprise waiting for them when they went to clean up."

Jason pulled off his glasses, leaned back in his chair and went on with his theory. "That could explain why they left the kid alive after redecorating the crime scene. But, since business is business, they'd want to keep him close at hand in case he remembered something awkward. Plus, if it is a 'family' affair, that might go a long way towards explaining the financial aid."

"According to Seidou-san's notes, the person who called in the accident had no police record at the time," said Keisuke, "and nothing came up when we re-ran the name this morning."

"Nothing like family crime," said Taiyouko. "There's always someone around to 'take care' of you. Wright, that's a tidy little theory, but it's based on a lot of assumptions. Logical assumptions, but assumptions nonetheless. I don't want either of you taking a crowbar to the facts to fit them into a pet theory. Let's hold off on any more theorizing until we've actually talked to this guy and find out what he does or doesn't know."

Taiyouko knew it was tempting to grab on to the most sensational solution to a case. She'd fallen into the same trap fourteen years ago. Still, there was something appealing about Wright's theory. Taiyouko had similar thoughts herself. It might explain why the case was yanked, and also why it was handed back. She would have to make some discreet inquiries, and find out if there was an escalating power struggle in one of the syndicates that might lead to some politicking within the police department.

If that wound up being the case, she would find out who in the department was on the take and make sure that the appropriate asses were thoroughly kicked.

Right now, she was mulling over what was probably a stupid idea. Or maybe it wasn't so stupid. Jason was to be an observer, right? He'd done a good job of reading her back in Harada-san's office. Keisuke was a good detective, and could trace a string of legal and financial connections all the way back to the Treaty of Versailles if he so chose. On the other hand, he tended be befuddled by actual human beings.

"Keisuke, would your delicate male ego be crushed if I took Wonder Boy along to the interview and left you here with your printouts?"

Keisuke clapped a hand to his chest. "Though wounded to the very core, I shall soldier on, Seidou-san."

"Good boy. Treat yourself to a cookie. Keep trying to follow the money back to its source, and when that pans out, see if we can't find out any more about where this boy was between ages six and eight. It's a little too convenient that those records were 'lost.' Wright, your Japanese seems good enough for you to follow along with an interview. You want to come along and meet this guy?"

Jason nodded.

"Great. Just remember, you're an observer. Take notes on the conversation, jot down anything that seems odd, any little tics or weird body language this guy has. If you come up with a good question, then pass me a note or something, clear?"

"Clear."

"All right, then. Enjoy the ride, keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. If you're a good boy, I may even buy you an ice cream. Let's go."

**2:55 p.m.**

"She should be here any minute. Are you ready?"

Artemis yawned and stretched out his front legs one at a time. It was a way of preparing the body for action, not an expression of boredom or fatigue, but he'd given up trying to explain such things to humans. Let them make of it what they would. "Ready as I'll ever be. I just hang around, look adorable, keep eyes and ears open, and remember that cats don't talk, right?"

Mamoru shot up from his chair yet again, this time to go to the bookcase and pull a few more books flush with the edge of the shelf. "That, and see if you can't look over her shoulder and see what she writes down." He stopped to look at the shelf of framed photographs. "There was a cat in one of my foster homes that was always getting into people's bags and purses and rummaging around. Is that a normal cat thing?"

Artemis couldn't help wincing. The last time he had tried something like that, Minako hauled him out of her backpack by his tail. He wondered if she realized how much that _hurt_. "Sure. I can even manage a zipper if I have to--just tell her I'm a smart cat."

The call from Mamoru was a surprise, to say the least. Artemis mostly thought of the young man as Usagi's boyfriend or as the reborn Prince Endymion. He could count the times he'd spent one-on-one with Mamoru on the claws of one foot. Come to think of it, he hadn't known the original Endymion all that well, either.

Even so, Artemis knew that it was a bit out of character for Mamoru to be dashing around his apartment like a paranoid squirrel.

"What I'm really worried about," Mamoru said, checking the peephole one more time, "is that this detective might find out about the Senshi, or Tuxedo Kamen. I just can't shake the feeling that somehow she already knows."

Artemis decided that staying put on the couch was the best course of inaction for the moment. The last thing he wanted was to be stepped on by the agitated prince. Mamoru was a lot heavier than Minako. "I know what you mean. Minako still gets jumpy whenever she sees a policeman. Hey, speaking of Minako, if this thing doesn't go too long, could I stick around and talk to you for a minute? I need some advice on--"

The doorbell rang. Mamoru closed his eyes for a moment, somehow got the nervous energy under control, then went to get the door.

Artemis's ears flicked back in annoyance. Oh, well. Probably just as well he didn't get a chance to bring anything up. It would only open what Minako might call a "can of words." Artemis tucked his front paws under his chest, wrapped his tail around his haunches, and set his head at a fetching angle.

_Don't mind me, people. I'm just your average, adorable kitty-cat. _

"Meow."

* * *

Mamoru opened the door to find two people instead of the expected one. Not knowing what else to do, he ushered them inside.

"Chiba Mamoru?" asked the woman. When Mamoru nodded, she continued on. "I'm Detective Seidou Taiyouko. We spoke on the phone yesterday, I believe?"

Of course it was yesterday, thought Mamoru. Or was this so routine for her that one case just blended into the other? He started to relax, just a tiny bit.

She presented him with one of her business cards, then introduced her companion. "This is Jason Wright. He's from the United States," she explained, "and he's working with me on this case."

This was international? So much for relaxing. What on earth was going on, and how had he gotten involved?

The American extended a hand. Mamoru completed the handshake, saying a greeting in English as he did so. He tried not to stare. There was something about this man... the actor's face that he could somehow see going from naive to fierce to ascetic to roguish with only the barest change of expression. The air of competence that bordered on arrogance. _I know this man_, thought Mamoru, but any more than that was lost in a hail of conflicting, unidentifiable emotions.

It was only Seidou's saying something to him that kept him from making an idiot of himself.

"I'm sorry, Seidou-san, but I didn't catch what you just said."

"Detective Wright will be taking notes of our conversation," Seidou repeated, "that is, unless you mind, Chiba-san."

From the covert, puzzled look Detective Wright gave Mamoru, it was clear that he too had felt something when the two shook hands.

Just what kind of connection was it? Whatever it was, it was strong--nearly as strong as the bond he had with Usa-ko.

"Chiba-san, this is purely an informal inquiry at this point, but it may take us a while to go through some of this material with you. Would you mind if we sat down?"

What could he do? Say no? He waved them towards the couch and two chairs ranked around three sides of his coffee table. Seidou sat down in Mamoru's usual chair, and he knew that this had not been by accident.

As he walked over to the seating area, Wright surveyed the shelf that held Mamoru's collection of photographs.

"Wright-san, please, sit down." _And stop staring at Usa-ko. _If Mamoru were a dog, his hackles would have been standing straight up right then.

Wright walked over to the couch, wincing when he saw Seidou's dirty look. Artemis got up and sauntered in closer to the action. The cat was hamming it up, swaying his hips and hold his tail up like a cheery little flag.

"Would either of you like anything to drink?" Both of his 'guests' said they wouldn't mind some tea if he had some handy.

Funny, he thought that the ritual of getting the tea would help calm him down. Instead, it only postponed the inevitable. When he got back into the living room, Artemis was sucking up to the female detective, depositing a haze of white fur on her navy slacks. "He's a gorgeous cat. How long have you had him?" she asked.

"Oh... a couple of years," said Mamoru, simply because that was how long he'd known Artemis. He probably should have said he was cat-sitting, but oh well. What's said is said.

Wright lowered his hand and held out pinched-together fingers in the universal 'maybe I have food' gesture that people used to get the attention of a domestic animal.

"Hey, boy. Hey, kitty," he called softly.

Artemis obediently padded over to the American detective to get his ears scratched.

"That's an interesting marking you've got there, kitty. It sort of looks like a moon, doesn't it?"

Seidou looked at the cat, raised one eyebrow, then dug a notebook out of her tote bag and passed it over to Wright.

Wright left off scratching Artemis behind the ears. He looked at his hand, grimaced, and shook off a small cloud of white fur.

Seidou pulled a large brown envelope out of her bag and laid it on her lap. She began her questioning without warning, not even looking Mamoru in the eye. Her voice was brusque and all business.

"I understand that you've been an emancipated minor since you were sixteen, correct?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure where to look. Part of him wanted to study the American. Part of him wanted to confront this shabby little woman and tell her to get to the point and get this over with.

She remained quiet for a few seconds, studying a sheet of paper she had pulled out of the envelope. Artemis hopped up on the arm of her chair, pretending to beg for head-scratches. He purred so loudly that Mamoru could hear him from the couch. Mamoru had to fight back a grin. Then, the purring stopped. Artemis dropped to the ground with a startled trill, and hopped up on the couch next to Mamoru.

_You're supposed to be spying, not hanging out with me_, he tried to communicate by the force of his glare. He even tried to nudge Artemis off of the couch, but the cat only leaned his weight into him and anchored his claws in the upholstery.

"It says here that your parents were killed in a car accident when you were six." Detective Seidou finally looked up at him. "You were in the car with them."

It was not a question, but he treated it as such. "To be honest, I don't know. That's what I was always told."

The American blinked, startled. Seidou drew in a quick hiss of breath, then looked at him a little more closely. "I'm fairly certain you're the right person," she said, as if he'd be in big trouble if he wasn't. "Your eyes and the shape of your mouth are the same, and here, hold out your right hand... no, palm down. Good."

Mamoru expected Seidou to take his hand in hers, but no, she only ran her forefinger down a faint, nearly invisible scar that ran from above his wrist all the way down to the web between his thumb and forefinger. He felt an electric tingle shoot up his arm. What she was doing seemed much, much too personal.

"You got that scar from where your hand got caught by a bit of the wreckage when the divers pulled you out," she said. Then she raised an eyebrow. "Of course, there are a couple of other scars I could identify, but I really don't think you want to duck in the bathroom and shave your head, do you?"

Sometime during all of this, Artemis insinuated his head beneath Mamoru's left hand. Mamoru found himself reflexively running his fingers through the downy fur behind the cat's ears, allowing himself to be distracted by the warmth and softness.

"Chiba-san, I first met you approximately fourteen years ago, although I doubt you would recall the encounter. I was working a murder case at the time. Rather, it was a fatal traffic accident that was later classified as a murder, then closed as unsolvable." She looked at him. One corner of her mouth was quirked up, but her eyes were full of pity. The American only watched, his blue eyes flicking from side to side as he took everything in. "You can probably guess what I'm going to say next," Seidou said.

Or did he only imagine that she said it?

As the next, inevitable, words were spoken, Mamoru's world grew insubstantial. Something was cut loose in his mind and he slowly floated up and back from the scene. Only the feel of the warm fur beneath his hand held him in place. He heard the words, which were loud, and clear, yet coming from so very far away.

_Your parents._

He heard the words. He understood them.

_Murdered._

As words, they made sense, but they had no meaning for him.

_Someone killed your parents._

His parents? Who were his parents? What did that word mean? He heard himself answer question after question on autopilot. Yes, no, I don't know. I don't remember. Over and over, I don't remember.

Who did they know. What did they do. What did you see. You were there, you saw something, know something, heard something. Give us answers. There has to be something you can tell us.

I don't know. I can't remember. He had no answers, not for them, not for himself. He was aware that he should be upset, but how could he be? This had absolutely nothing to do with him. His parents had died in a car accident when he was six. That's all there was and all there ever would be.

Who were his parents?

I don't know...

Who was he?

I was six. It was an accident.

I woke up, and I was six.

That's all...

That's all there ever was...


	5. Lies, Denials, and Other Evasions

Chapter Five: Lies, Denials, and Other Evasions  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter one.  
  
Author's note: I apologize for the delay in posting, but I had to   
completely re-do parts of this chapter. It didn't help that the   
thing also grew like Topsy. I am also revising chapters one through   
four, so comments, criticisms and suggestions are always welcome,   
especially if you see anything that could be safely cut. Oh, and if   
you want to see a picture of Lamia, Astraea, Ananke, and Rosamund,   
check out Sailor Moon SuperS vol. 4. They're the ones who brought   
gifts for the infant Serenity.  
  
Monday, July 2  
  
4:25 p.m.  
  
The Hikawa shrine was never this noisy, with even Phobos and   
Deimos adding their bit to the chaos as they hassled a clueless   
pigeon. Deimos stood on the courtyard wall, cawing with such rancor   
that her body bobbed up and down with each cry. Rei didn't   
understand Crow, but she knew an insult-fest when she heard one.  
  
And if she wasn't mistaken, the human conversation was quickly   
heading in the same direction.  
  
All of the Senshi were crowded into the room that Rei and her   
four best friends normally used to cram for their entrance exams.   
Not everyone could fit around the table. Rei herself stood in the   
doorway, Haruka and Michiru sat on cushions in the corner of the   
room, and Makoto lounged on the floor behind Usagi and ChibiUsa.   
Makoto had given up trying to say anything, and was now lying back   
propped up on her elbows. Michiru rested against Haruka's shoulder,   
apparently asleep. How she could sleep with all the racket, Rei   
didn't know. All she did know was that if this noise had to stop   
before her own temper snapped.  
  
It didn't help that Rei knew she was supposed to be out front   
in case any visitors came up to buy charms or offer up some prayers.   
The best she could do was stand in the doorway leading out to the   
porch, keeping her eyes on the courtyard and trying to pay attention   
to the conversation in the room.  
  
If you could call it a conversation. Haruka and Minako were   
both yelling loud enough to wake the dead, which meant... Rei   
flinched, then stepped right into the room, hovering over Setsuna   
and Hotaru.  
  
"Hold it!" she barked. "Grandpa's asleep in the other room. Do   
you want to wake him?"  
  
The quiet was so sudden that Deimos's raucous caw, caw, caw,   
was surreally clear. Usagi blushed and bit her lips together. Ami   
and Minako both looked startled. Michiru lifted her head, blinked a   
few times, then settled back into the crook of Haruka's shoulder.  
  
"Let's go one at a time, okay?" Rei said, trying not to snap   
at them. "It's hard for me to hear anything with us all talking at   
once." In particular, she glared at Minako, who both blushed and   
scowled, and Haruka, who simply returned the glare.  
  
Luna shuffled herself to a more upright position in Usagi's   
lap. "I agree with Rei-chan," she said primly. "All this yelling is   
simply not going to get us anywhere, girls." The cat looked across   
the table at Hotaru. "Hotaru-chan, you say that this monster   
attacked you this morning? Why didn't you say something earlier?"   
she chided.  
  
"Everyone had left for school. Usagi always turns off her cell   
phone once she gets to class. Nobody was wearing a communicator,"   
Hotaru said in a monotone. This was clearly not the first time she   
had been asked that question. "Well, *Rei-san* was wearing *her*   
communicator," she added.  
  
Rei winced. Although Hotaru couldn't have meant it in that   
way, it almost sounded like she was pointing out some defect in   
character.  
  
Haruka held up one hand, showing off the communicator strapped   
to her wrist. "Hotaru-chan came to find me and Michiru right away,"   
she said in her foster-daughter's defense. "It's what I would have   
done, in her position. And the moral of today's story is...?"  
  
"Haruka is absolutely right," Luna said. "With everything   
having been so quiet for the past several months, we've gotten lax."  
  
"We" meaning "you," Rei mentally translated. Although it was   
tempting, she was *not* going to be smug about this, mostly because   
Luna could have been describing her as well. The only reason she'd   
had her communicator with her in the first place was because of her   
visions. Then, she'd gotten the call in the middle of history class,   
and ended up getting a ruler across the knuckles for whispering. It   
was only pure, dumb luck that Sister hadn't seen and confiscated the   
flashy little communicator. A year ago, she could have handled a   
call in the middle of class, and her classmates would have only   
thought that she was softly coughing into her hand, *if* they had   
noticed anything at all.  
  
"Until we figure out exactly what is going on, no one is to   
allow herself to be out of reach," Luna continued. "Hotaru-chan,   
please tell us everything you can remember about this thing that   
attacked you. I know that we originally were to discuss these dreams   
that all of you have been having,"--she quelled Makoto's   
interruption with an ears-back frown--"but this seems rather more   
pressing, in my opinion. And everyone, *please* hold your questions   
until the end."  
  
Hotaru shifted on her knees a bit before starting. The studied   
apathy she'd shown a few minutes ago had completely disappeared.  
  
"I have to pass this construction site on my way to school. As   
I went past, I thought I heard something...I can't be sure if there   
was actually a noise, or if it was because this sense of...of ill-  
will that I felt."  
  
"Ill will?" Rei asked. Luna started to shush her, but Usagi   
tapped the cat lightly on the head. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but   
could you be a little more clear?"  
  
Hotaru drummed her fingers on the table as she thought. "It   
wasn't anything specific. It was sort of like the feeling you have   
when you walk into a room and people aren't all that happy to have   
you there."  
  
Rei'd heard only a little of what Hotaru's life was like   
before she became Sailor Saturn, but was still surprised at the   
bitterness in the girl's voice.  
  
As Hotaru went on with her story her voice regained its   
rehearsed quality. "It was sudden, as if I'd interrupted something.   
Anyhow, I walked onto the site. No one was there, but there were big   
piles of dirt left from where they'd been excavating."  
  
She explained how the creature came after her, and how she had   
to parry its blows until she could far enough away that she'd have   
time to launch an attack of her own.  
  
"I thought that if I put up a Silence Wall, I might be able to   
get a better look at the thing, but it walked straight through as if   
it wasn't even there."  
  
She paused to let the full import of that little fact make   
itself known. If one of Sailor Saturn's attacks had no effect on the   
monster, what would happen if one of the others met up with this   
thing. Even though Rei could see for herself that the young Senshi   
had escaped unscathed, she found the suspense unbearable.  
  
So did Usagi. "What happened next, Hotaru-chan? How did you   
get away?"  
  
"I don't know how, but even though I'd hit it with the Glaive   
several times already, the next blow reduced it to a heap of   
gravel."  
  
"Sounds to me like the saddle that broke the horse's back,"   
Minako said. "Did it seem to weaken the other times you hit it?"  
  
Makoto sat up, apparently intrigued by the idea of an enemy   
that could be taken down by repeated brute force.  
  
Hotaru shook her head. "The Glaive knocked chunks out of it,   
but it didn't even seem to notice. In fact, it looked like it had   
some pieces missing to start with. One leg was shorter than the   
other, I think."  
  
"It didn't even say 'ouch!' or anything?" Minako asked,   
incredulous. "Did it even say what it was after?"  
  
"No. It didn't even have a mouth--just a little scooped out   
thing that looked more like a mistake than a mouth. The only think   
it seemed to want was to flatten *me*." She thought for a moment. "I   
don't even know if 'want' is the right word. It was more like I'd   
set off some sort of burglar alarm or something."  
  
"Interesting analogy. We should check out that construction   
site as soon as possible," Ami said. She typed something into her   
computer. "It's possible that this thing *was* some sort of security   
system. If we can, let's try to go there when there are workers   
there. They may have noticed something strange, or maybe one or two   
of them got the proverbial 'funny feeling' about something."  
  
"It may be too late," Haruka said. "I've driven by that site a   
few times, and the workers usually start fairly early. It could be   
that they've already been run off."  
  
Ami typed in another note. Her eyebrows were drawn together,   
making a little wrinkle between them. Setsuna also seemed lost in   
impatient thought, biting her lower lip and jiggling one leg. Rei   
also thought that something about this dirt creature sounded   
familiar.  
  
If only they knew what it wanted. Most of their enemies didn't   
hide the fact that they were after energy, or as was more often the   
case, the Ginzuishou. From the very beginning, it seemed as if their   
enemies enjoyed the taunting as much as the fighting. Beryl's   
generals had been among the worst. Come to think of it, Jadeite had   
used some sort of mud creatures against them that time at the   
airport. It was possible that the same kind of magic was in use this   
time? Jadeite had been thoroughly trounced and flattened by an ofuda   
and a couple of jumbo jets, but it was a lead worth following.  
  
"I don't think so," Hotaru said in response to Rei's   
description of the fight with Jadeite. "From what you said, those   
things looked and acted human before they reverted to mud."  
  
"Hold on a moment," Setsuna said. "This thing was human in   
shape but not in detail, right? Did it happen to have an elaborate   
mark on it, right here, in the middle of its forehead?" she asked,   
tapping the middle of her brow.  
  
"Uh-huh. I thought I told you that."  
  
"You didn't," Ami said, still studying her computer. "Well,   
this makes it pretty clear that we're dealing with a golem of some   
kind."  
  
"A whuh?" Usagi asked. "You mean like that thing in 'The   
Hobbit?'"  
  
"No," Setsuna said. "That would be Gollum. A golem is a man   
made out of dirt or clay. The mark on the forehead acts rather like   
one of Rei's spirit wards, except that instead of driving out   
demons, the mark allows mystical energy to animate the creature."  
  
"They're sort of like a magical robot," Ami explained.   
"According to Jewish folklore, a magician or holy man can make a   
golem and use it as a willing, voiceless slave."  
  
Hotaru slapped a fist into the palm of her hand. "Of course!   
That last time, I think I hit it in the head. I must have destroyed   
the mark..."  
  
"...and the goblin went poof," Minako said. "Makes sense to   
me."  
  
"It's golem, not goblin," Makoto said.  
  
"Whatever. At least we know how to stop them, if any more show   
up." Minako sounded a little too eager to test her theory, in Rei's   
opinion.  
  
"But we don't know who made it, or why," Rei pointed out. "We   
can't count on this just being a one-time thing."  
  
"Do you guys know what used to be there before they were   
building?" Usagi asked. "Maybe some sorcerer or something used to   
live there. Maybe when they started digging, the construction people   
managed to release something nasty."  
  
Ami entered something else into the computer. "I'll see if I   
can get the computer to dig up something about any past owners or   
any news stories related to the site. I hope you're right, Usagi,   
and it turns out that Hotaru took care of any problem there might   
be."  
  
If only she could believe that was true, thought Rei. None of   
her dreams or visions had anything about mud-men, golems, or   
sorcerers, after all. Maybe it was just because she was used to   
looking for connections and trying to ferret out the meaning behind   
visions, but the fact that all this happened within a few scant days   
did nothing for the unease churning in her stomach.  
  
"So for now, we keep an eye out for these golems, remember   
that our Senshi attacks might not work, and try for a good, clean   
head-shot," Haruka said. "So what's all this about the dreams that   
you've all been having?"  
  
"You're saying that you haven't? That's odd. Usagi, Rei, and   
Ami all said that they had strange dreams that might have been about   
the past," Luna said.  
  
"Me too," Minako said.  
  
"I didn't," Makoto said.  
  
Neither, apparently, had Setsuna or Haruka.  
  
"I got attacked by a golem instead," Hotaru said. "I feel like   
I got the wrong end of the deal. What about you, Michiru-mama?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Haruka shrugged, forcing Michiru to sit upright. "I'm sorry.   
It's been a long day, and I'm feeling a bit dozy. No, I haven't had   
any dreams," Michiru said when the question was repeated.  
  
"You sure about that?" Haruka asked. "You've been mumbling in   
your sleep a lot the past few nights."  
  
"Haruka, of course I'm sure!"  
  
"I wasn't doubting you, Michiru," Haruka said perhaps a little   
too quickly. "I just thought that you might not remember something   
clearly. I mean, maybe you could check the Mirror, see if it   
reminded you of anything..."  
  
It was a good idea, thought Rei. In fact, she'd thought of it   
a few days earlier, but Michiru hadn't returned her call. She looked   
at Michiru, considering. It probably wasn't anything. From what   
little she heard, it sounded like Michiru was finding the music   
program at Tokyo University tougher going than she'd anticipated.   
The normally elegant Michiru had come to the meeting looking a   
little ragged. Without her usual lipstick, she appeared strangely   
washed-out, plus she had dark circles under her eyes. Her white   
blouse and green skirt looked nice, but not head-turning nice.  
  
"Maybe you should check now," Ami suggested. "I find it odd   
that of our three psychically inclined members, only Rei would be   
having these dreams. It doesn't surprise me that Usagi would have   
dreams about our past, but Minako and I never have that kind of   
thing happen to us."  
  
"I don't know," Michiru said slowly. "If Haruka, Setsuna,   
Hotaru, and I didn't have any relevant dreams, it could be that this   
is something that only concerns you Inner Senshi."  
  
"There's an idea," Haruka eagerly concurred.   
  
That was interesting, Rei thought. Several of her assumptions   
about the Senshi's resident couple started to re-form themselves.  
  
"Sorry. Yours truly was also dreamless," Makoto said. "I mean,   
I had dreams, but they were about entrance exams."  
  
"Those are nightmares," Minako corrected, mimicking Makoto's   
usual tone of voice.  
  
"Whatever," Makoto replied, laughing. She stuck her tongue out   
at Minako. Rei glared at the two of them. They were taking this far   
too lightly for her taste.  
  
"I don't remember too much about my dreams," said Usagi. "I   
know that stuff happened in them, but when I tried to remember, I   
could only remember still pictures, and even those faded after a   
while. It'll be easier to show you than tell you. Minako-chan?"  
  
"Uh...I do remember my dream, but it was kind of weird," she   
said. "What's even weirder is what happened when me and Usagi-chan   
took that drawing class yesterday. Now keep in mind that we did not   
work on these together," she intoned as if introducing a magic act.  
  
Usagi met Minako's eyes and nodded. They started putting their   
pictures out on the table, and Rei could tell that the two of them   
had rehearsed this--a lot. The pictures were laid down in sequence,   
each picture appearing with its twin. The first picture was of Queen   
Serenity, something that could have been coincidence, since both   
girls had seen the holographic projection when they visited the moon   
three years ago this past spring. At first Rei and the others were   
unimpressed, but as the next picture, then the next, then the next   
appeared, eyes widened, jaws dropped, and from time to time, there   
was a little gasp of recognition.  
  
"I don't believe it," Setsuna said, softly, wonderingly.   
"Would you mind spreading these out so I can get a better look?"  
  
Minako did as asked, turning the pictures so Setsuna could see   
them right side up. "I know they're not the best," she said in a   
rare burst of humility, "but Usagi-chan and I think they seem right,   
somehow."  
  
Luna hopped up on the table to take a better look. She walked   
among the drawings, occasionally nudging one with her paw. "I'd say   
that Usagi's drawing skills have definitely improved. That's a   
remarkable likeness of Queen Serenity."  
  
"Hah! You're right," said Rei. She scooted in between Usagi   
and Ami. "I may have misinterpreted that vision," Rei muttered,   
mostly to herself. She was so used to her visions being about the   
future that she had assumed she was seeing NeoQueen Serenity. Did   
that mean that the other visions were of past events as well? If   
some were future and others past, how would she tell the difference?  
  
Hotaru craned her head so that she could look at the pictures   
at more of a natural angle. "What is it, Setsuna-mama?"  
  
Setsuna had the tips of her fingers at her mouth, and her   
maroon eyes grew bright with moisture as they scanned the seven sets   
of pictures. She lowered her hands and moved the pictures around,   
selecting four of Usagi's and three of Minako's. "I don't believe   
it," she repeated, in a whisper.  
  
The rest of the Senshi looked at each other nervously. Michiru   
huddled in closer to Haruka. Usagi reached over and wrapped her hand   
around ChibiUsa's. This did not look good.  
  
Setsuna finally looked up, a broad smile on her face. Rare   
laugh lines crinkled the corners of her eyes. She wiped away a tear.   
"It's really them!" she exclaimed. Her voice shook, but it was   
suppressed laughter, not tears. She surveyed the pictures again,   
still smiling as none of them had ever seen her do before.  
  
"It's really who?" asked Makoto. She rolled to her knees so   
she could peer over Setsuna's shoulder. "I recognize Queen Serenity,   
but I don't remember any of the others."  
  
Setsuna continued to move the pictures around, putting them in   
some order that made not sense to the others, but that satisfied   
her. The pattern reminded Rei of something she might do with her   
tarot cards.  
  
Three pictures formed a triangle. Setsuna circled her hand   
over them to indicate that they were a group. "These three were   
known as the Eunomia. Certainly you remember *them*."  
  
Ami drew in a sharp hiss of breath. "I remember something   
about them from my dream. Tell us more."  
  
"How come you remember?" asked Minako. "I mean, I remembered   
some stuff about the Moon Kingdom when Artemis and I were searching   
for the Moon Pri...er, Usagi. I don't remember any Eunomia, though."   
She reached across Makoto's line of sight to point at the top   
picture in the triangle. "This one played a big part in my dream.   
She rammed this big-ass spear of hers into my head right before I   
woke up."  
  
"That doesn't sound very nice," said ChibiUsa.  
  
"It only hurt a little, really."  
  
Setsuna looked as if she was lost in thought--not quite   
worried, thought Rei, but close. Delight and something else   
flickered back and forth on the oldest Senshi's face.   
  
Looking at the pictures, Rei herself felt a sort of dizziness.   
Excitement. Anticipation. The feeling that something, somehow was   
about to make sense. It was the feeling she sometimes had when she   
was reading a mystery novel, and all the clues were at hand and all   
you needed was one last insight, one last bit of information, and   
the whole thing would make sense.  
  
"It's our past, isn't it," Rei said, fighting to keep the   
eagerness under control. "For some reason, we're finally starting to   
remember everything that happened in our past. That's what's going   
on, isn't that right, Setsuna? Do you know why we couldn't remember   
much of anything before this?"  
  
Setsuna shook her head, bringing herself back to the present.   
"I do have some recollection of what happened back in the Silver   
Millennium and before," she admitted. She spoke slowly, as if not   
sure that she should really be saying what she was saying. "After I   
died in the thirtieth century, NeoQueen Serenity sent me back here   
to be born as a normal, human girl."  
  
Haruka snorted at that.  
  
"Normal compared to what I was before," Setsuna said lightly.   
"Anyhow, what I'm getting at is that I think my memories may have   
come through a little more intact than yours. Why, I don't know.   
Perhaps it was because Queen Serenity had more experience with the   
Ginzuishou than NeoQueen Serenity. I get the idea that Serenity--the   
first one--didn't want you remembering too much too soon."  
  
Usagi shifted her weight from one knee to the other. Something   
about what Setsuna said bothered her, Rei could tell.  
  
"How come you never said anything about it before?" Rei   
demanded. What was it with these Outer Senshi and passing along   
information? It wasn't fair of her, but in a way she felt like   
asking Michiru why she'd never called her back.  
  
"She has a good point, Setsuna. Why didn't you say anything?"   
asked Haruka.  
  
Hotaru turned to glare at her foster father, but Setsuna   
forestalled that by laying her fingers gently on the girl's arm. "I   
never said because it never came up." Her usual smile, lips closed,   
corners of the mouth turned up slightly, re-emerged. "Besides,   
little of what I remember was relevant. Would you feel obligated   
tell all the rest of us random memories of your time in   
kindergarten?"  
  
"It's not the same thing," grumbled Haruka.  
  
"No, it's not. Still, there isn't much that I could have told   
you. I became Sailor Pluto and was sent to the Gates of Time before   
any of the rest of you were called. Except for when I was called to   
summon Sailor Saturn, I never left the Gates. I was around when some   
of you were sealed..."  
  
"Ah!" exclaimed Ami. "That's something else you'll have to   
explain for us!"  
  
"You still haven't told us who this lady with the spear is,"   
said Minako, before Ami had even finished. Then, everyone seemed to   
explode into speech at once.  
  
"Setsuna, I still don't get why you never said anything   
before."  
  
"Didn't you listen to her, Haruka-papa? She *said* that it   
just never came up, and that's all!"  
  
"We'll all have to share everything we know if we're going to   
figure out what's going on. Maybe we should each just write down   
what we know..."  
  
"And what about these rock things? They sound a hell of a lot   
more dangerous than any weird dreams. And how come only some of you   
had these dreams?"  
  
"I'm not sure that my visions were only of the past. What if   
some of this is about things that are about to happen? Michiru, are   
you *sure* you haven't seen anything in the Mirror? You must have   
seen something!"  
  
"Rei-chan, if she'd seen anything, she would have said   
something!"  
  
"What I want to know, is why would that woman be going around   
sticking spears in people's heads? What does it mean?"  
  
"Would everyone please be QUIET?!?"  
  
Everyone turned to gape at Usagi, who had both hands up in a   
warding gesture. Her eyes were clenched shut and she was breathing   
heavily.  
  
"We're all friends here, aren't we?" she said, almost pleading   
with them. She was shaking. "Could we please...could we please just   
stop all of this yelling? Please?"  
  
Rei laid a hand on Usagi's quivering shoulder. "You're   
absolutely right. This isn't an interrogation." The last phrase was   
directed at Ami, Haruka, and Minako. She then turned back to Usagi.   
"Look, I'm sorry I lost my temper, and I'm sorry I yelled. Michiru-  
san, please don't think I was accusing you of holding anything back   
from us." Not yet, anyway. She took a deep breath, then continued.   
"I can see Setsuna's point, and I believe that if something happened   
to us that touched on what she remembered, she would tell us,   
correct?"  
  
Setsuna nodded, slowly.  
  
Rei took the lead and handed it over in one sentence. "Usagi-  
chan, what do you think we should do next?"  
  
"I want Setsuna-san to tell us about the pictures, then I want   
to hear about everyone else's dreams," she said, her voice still   
very soft and quiet. Even so, it carried the force of an order.  
  
"If I may," stammered a blushing Ami, "I think it might be   
better if we shared the dreams first. Otherwise, we might get what   
we remember mixed up with what Setsuna tells us. Would...would that   
be all right with everyone?"  
  
It was. Usagi made a point of thanking Ami for speaking her   
mind. Rei went first, proving Ami right when she said that after   
seeing the pictures, she wasn't certain if the woman in one vision   
was Queen Serenity or NeoQueen Serenity. She then recounted the   
other images she'd seen--the sandstone walls and a voice calling out   
a name, the man in black, the woman in the petal storm, the sense of   
something undulating and moving through the darkness.  
  
"I'm sorry I can't tell you any more, but I'm not sure it's a   
good idea for me to be doing any fire readings right now. The last   
time I tried, I nearly passed out and fell in the fire. That, and   
the visions seemed much sharper and more immediate than anything I   
would normally see. Grandfather said that deliberately opening my   
mind like that was dangerous."  
  
"And he's absolutely correct," said Luna. "My goodness, if   
someone or something is trying to send you a message, you don't want   
to go leaving your mind unlocked. Who knows *what* might get in   
there when you weren't watching?"  
  
Michiru started to say something, then shook her head and   
warded off questions with an upraised palm. Whatever had just   
occurred to her, she would bring it up later.   
  
"One I can get a quiet hour or two, I might try a card   
reading. Anyhow, the second vision was especially unsettling," Rei   
said. "I had a repeat of that vision of the man in black. He was   
lost in the woods, and I think he was dying."  
  
Usagi tensed.  
  
I should have known she'd assume it was Mamoru, Rei thought.   
She'd have to look further into this vision later on.  
  
"I couldn't tell who it was," Rei hurriedly continued, "other   
than it wasn't exactly the same the second time around. It was..."   
she thought for a moment. "It was kind of like watching a play that   
I'd seen before, but with different actors and a different set. I   
don't know if that makes any sense."  
  
Most of the others looked puzzled, but Setsuna, Michiru, and   
Hotaru nodded. "Anyhow," Rei continued, "I also had another glimpse   
of that woman, the one who was in the middle of a whirlwind of what   
looked like sakura petals." She shuddered. "I don't know why that   
one bothered me so much, but it did. I could tell she was in a lot   
of pain, but..." She shook her head violently.  
  
"Was there anything else, Rei?" Usagi asked, gently.  
  
Rei hesitated. She wanted to forget the warm sense of   
satisfaction that had welled up when she had that vision. She also   
wanted forget what had happened in the next part of the vision. Her   
fingers clutched at the fabric of her hibakama. The next part was   
something she'd only dreamed the night before. "The next thing that   
happened was that I thought I felt someone's..." Her eyes closed and   
she bit her lips shut. Eventually, she was able to go on. "I thought   
I felt someone's hands around my throat." She remembered the cold   
laughter, the merciless blue eyes, and she knew that this was not a   
vision, but memory. "I think...I think I felt myself die."  
  
Everyone was silent for a little while after that. Usagi   
looked ill. She shouldn't have said anything.   
  
Minako was blinking back tears. "I guess I'm next," she said   
gruffly. "Anyhow, I was late for class, and it turns out that there   
was a test I didn't know about..."  
  
Minako's round-about tale of her dream, complete with every   
embarrassing detail, up to and including flashing the entire class   
by wearing a too-short top, was a tonic. Even Michiru and Setsuna   
were laughing by the time she was done. The odd, three-faced being   
she deliberately described as being like something out of a low-  
budget horror flick, adding to the amusement.  
  
"Thank you, Mina-chan," gasped Ami, wiping a tear from her   
eye. "Not exactly a scientific account, but nicely done." She then   
launched into a long, very detailed account of her first dream. Rei   
was impressed. Only Ami would take the time to notice things like   
geologic and atmospheric details. For Rei, at least, this confirmed   
that what they were seeing was something real, if far in the past.  
  
"Setsuna, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing that the   
sealing would be when we were chosen to be Senshi," Ami said. "My   
second dream might have been about that." She described being in a   
huge room with limestone walls and with tiny windows high up near   
the ceiling, and how a five-year-old version of herself stood with   
her sisters as three impressively tall people came towards them.  
  
"They were maybe seven feet tall, each," she said. "It looked   
like their robes were made out of some sort of metal. One looked   
like he--it was hard to tell if they were men or women--was wearing   
gold. Another was wearing copper, I think, and had a huge book. The   
last one was in bronze, and had a spear--it sounds like your three-  
faced woman, Minako-chan, but split in three." She went on to tell   
how the three seemed to glow, and the uproar when they called out   
Egeria's name.  
  
"I gather that it was something of a social disaster," she   
continued, "like the wicked fairy showing up to Sleeping Beauty's   
birthday party. Everyone was crying. The person with the spear   
touched its point to my forehead." She reflexively rubbed at the   
spot where the sigil of Mercury appeared when she transformed.   
"That's when I woke up."  
  
None of the others were too surprised when Ami handed out   
neatly typed transcripts of her two dreams. She had brought enough   
for everyone, even handing Usagi and Minako extra copies for Mamoru   
and Artemis. "What I'm really curious about are some of the things   
that Lares and Nerissa talked about with Ikarus."  
  
"It sounds like Ikarus was quite the cutie," said Minako.  
  
Ami looked like she wanted to sink through the floor.  
  
Setsuna quickly scanned the transcript. "Some of these things   
sound familiar. I'll have to get back to you on much of this,   
however." She looked around at the puzzled expressions on the   
others' faces. "I said that I remembered a lot, not everything. Ami-  
chan, why don't I type up what I can recall and bring that to our   
next meeting."  
  
"Sure. But e-mail me a copy as soon as you have something,   
would you please? So, Setsuna. Who are these people?"  
  
"Goodness, you're quick to get to the point, aren't you?"   
Setsuna teased. "Let's see. Of course you all recognize Queen   
Serenity."  
  
"I didn't," ChibiUsa said. "That looks more like Mama to me."  
  
Hotaru picked up the picture of Queen Serenity and studied it.   
"It's scary, but you really do look like your mom. Your other mom, I   
mean," she said.  
  
"I'm not sure who to introduce next," Setsuna said. It looked   
like she was enjoying the whole thing, almost as if she was going   
through an old family album with them. "How about this one," she   
said, pointing at the dragon.  
  
The creature was black with green highlights, and its eyes   
were cherry-red. Rei could almost remember it, not specifically, but   
enough to know that the eyes would have glowed, and that the wings   
that were plain white in the drawing were in truth made of nothing   
but light.  
  
"This was one of the Horae," Setsuna said, tracing the curve   
of the creature's spine with one finger. "They were advisors,   
guardians, and soothsayers, and there used to be many of them.   
Qetzal, Xenocleia, Pachu'a and Chu'mana, Jormungand, Ophidia,   
Apep..." She swallowed, and took a moment before going on, the   
silence only broken by the incessant cawing from outside and the   
barely audible click of Ami's keyboard. "I don't mean to get mushy   
on you, but just telling you about them makes me remember what it   
was like to...to see them soaring through the air. They weren't all   
dark like this, you know. It was such a beautiful time, back then."  
  
"What happened, Puu?" ChibiUsa asked.  
  
Setsuna didn't say anything for a while. "By the time the Moon   
Kingdom fell, most of them had died off. This one, the Dark One,   
Delphine, she was the last of them. She was advisor to Queen   
Serenity in much the way that Luna and Artemis are advisors to us   
now. A few years after Usagi--well, Usagi's previous incarnation--  
was born, Delphine finally died."  
  
"You were good friends, weren't you," Usagi said gently. It   
wasn't really a question.  
  
"Yes. We were close." Setsuna looked up at the array of sad   
and worried expressions and laughed softly. "It was a long time ago,   
even for me. Don't worry about it. I thought I'd tell you about   
Delphine first, since...well, since I knew she'd be the hardest."   
Now, Setsuna had a mischievous glint in her eye. "The rest are much   
more fun."  
  
She pointed out the blue-haired woman who wore her hair in an   
off-center ponytail. "This is Lamia, the Lady of the Oceans. In   
fact, the royal house of Neptune traces its bloodline back to her."  
  
Rei looked over at Michiru, who hardly reacted. In fact, she   
seemed to be falling asleep again. Once this was over, she would   
have to have a word with Setsuna. She would be less likely to be   
defensive than either Haruka or Hotaru.  
  
"How could she be Neptune's ancestor?" Makoto asked. "She   
looks so *young*."  
  
"She was hundreds of thousands of years old when the Silver   
Millennium was founded," Setsuna said. "Plus, one of her descendants   
married into the House of Mercury."  
  
"Lady Nerissa," Ami said. "How about that, Michiru? We're   
cousins!"  
  
Michiru said nothing. Haruka rolled her eyes and pointed at   
the now slumbering Michiru. "Bad day," she mouthed.  
  
Setsuna was now grinning. Rei bit back a smile. This next part   
promised to be interesting, especially if she was right about the   
identity of one of the remaining four.  
  
The next picture was what Minako and Usagi insisted was a   
forest sprite. The only problem was that the figure in their   
pictures was too imposing for the word "sprite" to be anything other   
than ridiculous. This woman had green eyes (although probably not   
the bright kelly green that Minako had used) and a complexion nearly   
as dark as Setsuna's. The long, wavy hair was a deep magenta at the   
hairline that shaded to the palest pink by the time it reached the   
woman's knees.  
  
"This is Rosamund," Setsuna said. "The Lady of the Green, and   
Queen of Earth." The grin widened. "Don't tell me you never wondered   
about Endymion's family."  
  
Ami's gasp of surprise was drowned out by the hollow thud of   
three heads colliding.  
  
"Watch it, Usagi!" ChibiUsa whined.  
  
"Watch it yourself, brat," Usagi snarled.  
  
"Owww..." Minako moaned.  
  
It took over a minute for everyone, Luna included, to stop   
laughing.  
  
"Well...ha...at least we know where the pink hair comes from,   
ChibiUsa-chan" Hotaru said.  
  
"I don't get it," Ami said. "Mamoru is the reincarnation of   
Endymion. He shouldn't have any of Rosamund's genes, should he?"  
  
"Don't sweat it, Ami," Minako said. "Usagi looks like   
Serenity, right? Just crayon it up to magic and forget about it,   
okay?"  
  
"Yes, but still..."  
  
"It would also explain why Mamoru inherited his ability with   
roses along with the Golden Crystal," Setsuna said. "Rosamund's   
connection to the living Earth was powerful indeed." She thought   
about something for a moment, then added, "In fact, Rosamund isn't   
really how you'd say her name. It's just the closest equivalent we   
have in modern language. Rosamund. Rosa Mundi. The Rose of the   
World." She started to add something else, then moved on to the next   
picture.  
  
This one looked like Helios, except that the eyes were dark   
red and the hair golden blond. He also had a heavier jaw line and   
seemed broader through the shoulder. More a macho type than the   
bishonen, Rei decided, but the resemblance was striking. He was also   
in the group that Setsuna had labeled the Eunomia.  
  
"The Eunomia were...judges...I guess you could say," Setsuna   
said. "As Ami guessed, they were the ones who selected each of your   
forebears as Senshi. If anyone refused to accept the law and will of   
the Moon or Earth, the Eunomia stepped in. This one, Hyperion, was--  
and girls, please sit back because I don't want anyone to get a   
concussion--was also Queen Serenity's husband.  
  
"I don't remember what happened to him," Setsuna said, once   
the confusion subsided, "but because of his rank and position, he   
could not stay overly long in either kingdom or in any of the   
colonies. The Eunomia were associated with the Sun, you see, and as   
judges, they were expected to be impartial. In fact, I don't think   
the fact that he was Princess Serenity's father was widely known."  
  
Usagi was silent. She had picked up the picture of the blond   
man and studied it carefully.  
  
"Hyperion was the one who decided the truth of the matter. He   
knew if an injustice was done, and he was the one who decided who   
was to blame, if there was blame to be assigned."  
  
She moved on to the next picture. This was of the woman in the   
coppery-red robe, and she carried a book. Her hair was as long as   
Rosamund's but straight. Usagi had colored her hair orange, but Rei   
could almost picture the light auburn that it had really been. "This   
was Astraea."  
  
"Isn't that the Greek god of justice?" asked Ami.  
  
Setsuna blinked. "Is it? I never knew that. How odd. In any   
event, Astraea was the one who decided what was to be done to   
resolve a matter. She would decide if someone should be banished, or   
if some sort of reparation was needed, or, well you get the idea."  
  
"Who's the last one?" Usagi asked. She reluctantly put down   
the picture of her one-time father. "I don't know why, but she   
reminds me of Miss Haruna. One of my teachers," she added for the   
others' benefit.  
  
"Huh. You're right," Makoto said.  
  
"This is Ananke," Setsuna said, pointing to the woman with the   
short blonde hair and, as Minako had put it, the honking big spear.   
"The oldest. She was the one who, well, who imposed judgment."  
  
"The executioner," Hotaru said. She seemed transfixed by the   
last of the Eunomia.  
  
"Sometimes," Setsuna said. "She was actually rather nice, to   
be honest."  
  
"I guess that's a comfort," Haruka said. "Hello, pleased to   
meet you. Sorry about having to cut your head off."  
  
"So, what happened to them?" Rei asked. "Now that you've told   
us about them, they're starting to look familiar, but I still can't   
remember anything about them. Where were they when we fought Beryl   
and Metallia?"  
  
Setsuna shook her head. "I don't know. I had become Sailor   
Pluto by that time. I remember Usagi--I mean Serenity being born,   
then after that, it was nothing but the Gates of Time until I was   
called forth to help summon Saturn. I'm sorry."  
  
Rei and the others continued to bombard Setsuna with   
questions. From time to time she would remember some detail, but   
almost everything they wanted to know about seemed to have happened   
after she went to stand watch over the Gates of Time.  
  
With the return of the noise and confusion, no one noticed   
when Usagi's cell-phone rang and she slipped out into the shrine's   
courtyard.  
  
# # # #  
  
"Mamo-chan? Is that you? Where are you?"  
  
"I got held up," he said. "Artemis and I will be over there in   
about fifteen minutes or so. There's something I need to talk to you   
all about."  
  
"Is everything all right?" she asked. "You sound kind of   
stressed." Mamo-chan *never* talked so quickly.  
  
"Usa-ko, why don't you meet for me at the bottom of the   
shrine steps in fifteen minutes. There *is* something going on, but   
I don't want to share it with the others just yet. Do you think you   
can get away for a few seconds?"  
  
She nodded, but when she got no response, asked, "It's nothing   
serious, is it?" She fought to keep the worry out of her voice. What   
on earth had happened to him? Why was he so reluctant to say   
anything about it?  
  
"It's...confusing. Don't worry, Usa-ko. I'll be there shortly.   
Until then, just remember that I love you. Will you be all right   
until I get there?"  
  
She would, but would he? "Yes."  
  
"I'll see you in a little while." There was a pause. "I love   
you, Usa-ko, and I'll always be here for you so don't worry.   
*Please* don't worry, okay? Bye."  
  
"Bye," she said, but he had already hung up.  
  
It was only a little later, as she walked down the long flight   
of stone steps leading down from the shrine, that she realized that   
she had forgotten to tell him that she loved him, too.  
  
  
4:40 p.m.  
  
Taiyouko watched with amusement as Jason continued to pick   
short white hairs off his jacket sleeve. They were walking back from   
Chiba's apartment. Taiyouko was about to ask Jason his opinion about   
the strange young man, but Jason beat her to it.  
  
"Answer me this, Seidou-san," he said. "How does a med student   
who clearly doesn't vacuum or dust more than once every couple of   
weeks and who owns a white cat that sheds like a son-of-a-bitch   
manage to have dark furniture and dark carpeting *without a sign of   
cat hair anywhere on the upholstery?*"  
  
"Good question. I wonder why he lied about the cat." An idea   
came to mind and was just as quickly dismissed. Most people would   
lie the other way--claim that they were only pet-sitting so they   
didn't have to pay a cleaning deposit to the landlord. It seemed   
such an odd thing to lie about.   
  
The cat wasn't important. What bothered Taiyouko were the   
questions she had that she could not voice, questions about the   
alien, yet familiar fury that had pushed her into a breakdown   
fourteen years ago. When she entered Chiba's apartment, she felt the   
old lurker shift once more. She could almost imagine it pricking up   
its ears and flexing its muscles. Its presence felt natural in her   
mind, the way that the weight of a gun had always felt natural in   
her hand. She did not find this at all amusing.   
  
Plus, now that this...thing...was awake, it decided that it   
did not particularly trust Detective Wright. Taiyouko barely noticed   
as the lurker's distrust merged with and became indistinguishable   
from her own.  
  
"I'll tell you what else I noticed," continued the object of   
the lurker's attention. "When I went to use the john, I didn't see   
any sign of a cat box, and I didn't smell one, either. I don't care   
how good a housekeeper you are, if you have an indoor cat, you're   
going to smell it, especially when it's as humid as it is today."  
  
Taiyouko 'humphed' and continued walking down the sidewalk.   
She should have caught that, but then again, housekeeping was a   
waste of time as far as she was concerned. On top of that, her sense   
of smell was still nicotine-addled despite eight agonizing smoke-  
free days. She recalled watching Jason walk out of the room, and the   
way the fury's attention focused on him, wary and watchful. "Are you   
trying to make some point about the cat, other than the fact that   
you were smart enough to catch Chiba in a lie? What else did you   
notice? You were looking at those pictures of his for a while. You   
weren't exactly subtle about it, either."  
  
He had the good grace to hunker down a little and grin   
sheepishly. "Sorry."  
  
"It looked to me like you recognized one of them."  
  
He shook his head. "Nope. I just thought it was kind of odd   
that he'd have pictures of so many girls out on display like that."  
  
Bullshit. He just about jumped out of his skin when he saw   
those pictures. It was a shame, really. Jason was a nice enough guy,   
and he didn't get too bent out of shape by her little jokes. To be   
honest, she didn't mind having a nice piece of eye-candy hanging   
around, either. Unfortunately, she knew that the boy was hiding   
something big, just the way she knew that Chiba was hiding something   
big.   
  
It wasn't instinct--she'd been a cop long enough to know all   
of the little "tells" that indicated that someone was either lying   
or not owning up to the entire truth. The problem was distinguishing   
the important lies from the trivial lies. Taiyouko would rather   
follow a lead based on evidence than one based on intuition, but she   
had this prickle in the back of her mind telling her that ignoring   
this matter could be disastrous. She decided to push Jason on the   
photographs, just a little, to see if anything bent or broke.  
  
"Now remember," she said, "that Chiba doesn't have any   
surviving family--that he knows of or will admit to, anyway. Chances   
are those women *are* what passes for family with him."   
  
"No pictures of any guys, though."  
  
It sounded to her like Jason was still trying to make sense of   
what he'd seen. "Do you keep a nicely framed picture of your   
partner--what's his name--Meldrick?--at home on your dresser?" Jason   
shuddered. Point taken, then. "Anyhow, I got a look--a *discreet*   
look--and I think I know one of them. She lives in my building. I'll   
see if I can't run into her on the stairs or in the laundry room and   
start up a little chit-chat."  
  
"Well, isn't that convenient."  
  
"Sarcasm will get you nowhere. Minus two points to Detective   
Wright." She'd have to think of an excuse to get him to stop by her   
place and see if he was eager or reluctant to go with the idea. They   
turned down a side street that was home to several cute cafés and   
tea shops. If Taiyouko couldn't have a cigarette, she was damn well   
going to have something chocolate.   
  
"Hey, if a coincidence comes in handy, you'd be crazy not to   
take advantage of it. Living in the same building as one of those   
girls is nothing," she continued, "I met this detective-constable at   
a seminar in London a couple of years ago, and she had the craziest   
story I ever heard. The way Barbara tells it..."  
  
For a minute there, she thought that someone had sneaked up   
and run 400 volts through Detective Wright. "London? As in Scotland   
Yard's London? You know someone at Scotland Yard?" he demanded. His   
electrification was not shock or fear, but rather something else.   
Hope. Wild, desperate hope.  
  
"They sponsored the seminar," she said, keeping her voice calm   
and matter-of-fact. "Harada sends me to these things to keep me out   
of his hair, I think."  
  
"Listen, Seidou-san. I don't know if you could do this for me,   
but it would be a huge favor. There's an old friend I've lost track   
of, who I haven't been able to locate through the internet or   
anything..."  
  
Taiyouko noticed that they were only a few doors down from her   
favorite tea shop, whose obviously phony French name she could never   
remember. She and Ku-chan just referred to the place as 'Something   
French.' They had the best brownies in Tokyo. She ought to see if   
Ku-chan was free for breakfast or lunch sometime this week.   
  
"I can't promise it'll do any good," she told Jason, "but I'll   
see if Barbara can look up this friend of yours. Write down the name   
and anything else you can give me that might help Barbara with her   
search. I'm assuming this person is British?"  
  
At the very least, this would be a nice excuse for getting   
back in touch with Barbara. It would also mean that she'd have a   
chance to peek at whatever Barbara could dig up before handing it   
over to Jason. Taiyouko checked her watch. Damn. Almost five. They   
should head back to the station to see if Keisuke had found anything   
new. First, however, she was going to stop at Something French to   
get one of their fabulous double-fudge caramel...  
  
A woman's scream ripped through the air. Both detectives   
whirled to see a man running pell-mell towards the subway entrance,   
arms pumping wildly, a woman's purse in his hand. Taiyouko ran   
towards the man, hoping to head him off. She yelled back to Jason,   
ordering him to run towards the subway, when something truly strange   
happened.  
  
The purse-snatcher tripped on empty air. Taiyouko had never   
seen anything like it. One second the man was sprinting, the next he   
was flying through the air as if an invisible bar had swept his legs   
out from under him. He hit the pavement hard, with an audible clack   
of teeth that made several onlookers wince in sympathy. The purse   
flew from his hand with improbable force, spinning along the ground   
to stop neat as you please at Taiyouko's feet. A subway cop ran up   
from underground to see what the commotion was about. Taiyouko   
turned back to see if Jason had seen the same thing she had.  
  
Instead of looking shocked, surprised, or as if he had seen   
anything out of the ordinary, Jason was walking along calmly,   
surveying the scene with an aggravatingly smug look on his face. It   
was only there for a second, disappearing as soon as he noticed   
Taiyouko looking at him.  
  
"Lucky for us he tripped, huh?" said Jason. "If you ask me, he   
got pretty much what he'd deserved."  
  
And then some, from the look of it. The criminal was barely   
managing to sit up, and was cradling his head in his hands. His chin   
was scraped and bleeding, and the front of his shirt was stained   
with grit and blood. The woman whose purse he'd stolen had caught up   
with him and was giving him one hell of a lecture. Arrest must look   
like escape by comparison. Ah, well. The subway cop could handle it.   
It would give him something to tell the wife and kiddies when he got   
home.  
  
"Yeah. Lucky. Hey, Wright. I'm getting kind of hungry. Mind if   
we stop in here for a bite to eat?"   
  
Fortunately, Jason seemed amenable to the idea of brownies and   
coffee, even if it meant having to go into a place with ruffled pink   
curtains. Once they got back to the station, she told Jason, she   
would e-mail Barbara Havers about his missing friend. What she   
didn't tell him was that she would also be contacting another old   
friend in New York City.   
  
Although she didn't like to trust instinct, she couldn't tune   
out this voice telling her to watch her step, to watch her back, and   
most of all to watch Jason Wright very, very closely.   
  
# # # #  
  
Taiyouko Seidou was not the only person who'd noticed the odd   
way in which the would-be purse snatcher had fallen into the hands   
of the law. On a rooftop high above, Sailor Sun stared at her   
crystal. Crystal, however, was not the right word for its   
appearance. Ever since the strange man and woman had come out of the   
apartment building, the crystal had been and opaque, pale green   
veined with a dull, metallic brown.  
  
She had waited for hours and hours at the apartment building   
for the white kitty to come out. But instead, these two walked out,   
and her crystal turned these strange colors. They were ugly colors,   
she thought. Colors like that meant trouble. Maybe these two were   
enemies.   
  
She followed them until the man did something nasty to some   
other man who had been running down the street. He reached out with   
his mind and hit the other man in the legs. She couldn't see it, of   
course, but Mother had taught her well. She could feel the energy   
rushing out of him like a snake. Oh, yes. These two were trouble.   
Sailor Sun knew what to do about trouble.  
  
Sailor Sun leapt from rooftop to rooftop, deciding not to   
follow the two strange people any more. She had to go tell Mother   
about them right away. Mother always knew what to do.  
  
  
4:45 p.m.  
  
"Hi there! This is Saori's machine. She's busy right now, so   
please leave your name and number and she'll get back to you as soon   
as she's finished rounding up the bad guys!" A snippet of the   
"Cowboy Bebop" opening theme played for about five seconds, followed   
by the beep.  
  
Mamoru shook his head. He never understood the appeal of cute   
answering machine messages. "Saori-san, this is Mamoru Chiba. Give   
me a call when you can. That detective you told me about just left   
here a few minutes ago, and..." he paused, wondering how much he   
should say, "uh, never mind. I'll tell you more about it when I talk   
to you. Say hello to Kobayashi for me."  
  
He put the phone back down. He needed to call Usagi, but he   
had to stop shaking, first. Calling Saori was a stupid idea, come to   
think about it. He wished there was some way to call back and tell   
the answering machine to erase his message.   
  
Artemis trotted over to the couch and put his front paws on   
Mamoru's knee.  
  
"Are you going to be all right? That was...kind of a   
surprise...to put it mildly."  
  
Mamoru stood up, carelessly knocking Artemis out of the way.   
"I'm fine. I'll be fine."  
  
Artemis followed as Mamoru went to the kitchen. "Yeah, right.   
You just find out that someone killed your parents, and you're   
'fine.'"  
  
"They *think* someone killed my parents, Artemis." He opened   
the refrigerator. "My parents died over fourteen years ago. How can   
they find out anything now?" He held out a plastic-wrapped bowl.   
"Tuna?"  
  
"Don't change the subject, but if you're not going to eat   
that..."  
  
Mamoru took the tuna and a container of pineapple yogurt, and   
man and cat went back out into the living room.  
  
"Anyway," Artemis continued in between bites of tuna, "Were   
those two weird or what? When that guy was scratching me, I felt   
like he was checking me over for evidence." He cleaned out the bowl   
in just a few gulps, licking it down to catch any remaining tuna   
juice. "Maybe it's just Luna's paranoia rubbing off on me, but I   
don't think this is coincidence. First, the Senshi call some sort of   
emergency meeting, then you have Detective Torquemada and friend   
paying you an unexpected visit."  
  
"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition..." Mamoru deadpanned.   
He poked his spoon around in the yogurt, noticing how the pineapple   
formed little clots in the smooth whiteness. Guess he really wasn't   
hungry after all.  
  
"Hey, I didn't know you were into Python!" said Artemis.  
  
"'Oh Lord, we beseech thee, tell us 'oo croaked Leicester!'"   
Mamoru quoted from yet another favorite skit. He wasn't in the mood   
for humor right now, but if it got Artemis off the subject...  
  
"Oh yeah. The 'Dead Bishop' sketch. A real gas, but   
*spectacularly* inappropriate under the circumstances, okay? We're   
talking about your parents' death! Aren't you even a little curious?   
Don't you want to know who might have done this? Or why?" Artemis   
stalked away, then jumped up on the coffee table so he could look   
Mamoru in they eye. "Listen, those two didn't stop by because   
somebody's parrot is pining for the fjords. I know it's a lot to   
swallow, but you've got to tell the others something, especially   
given what they're meeting about."  
  
Mamoru looked at his watch and winced. Oh, well. He'd told Ami   
that he'd be running late. "Why are they meeting, anyway? I had to   
get off the phone before Ami could tell me anything."  
  
Artemis flicked one ear back and lashed his tail, which Mamoru   
interpreted as the feline equivalent of shaking one's head in   
disgust. "Apparently Minako and some of the other girls had some   
strange visions or something," he said as if repeating the weather   
forecast. "It's hard to tell, because I'm getting this news third   
hand after being garbled by Minako and your fiancée. If they got it   
right, it sounds like Ami thinks it's something about their past   
lives in the Silver Millennium."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, don't you think it's odd that something from *your* past   
should resurface right now?"  
  
"Sure, but I still don't see what it has to do with anything.   
This is about my own, personal past, not my life as Endymion.   
They're two, totally different things. How could it possibly be   
related?"  
  
"It's not just a river in Egypt, pal!"  
  
"I am *not* in denial!" Mamoru got up and stalked over to the   
window. The sun was just reaching that late-afternoon point where   
its light was heavy and golden, making the city appear to be frozen   
in one idyllic moment, like the picture of some utopia on the cover   
of a science-fiction novel. Glass and steel shimmered silver-gold,   
and plain concrete looked like the finest marble, all in that one   
magical moment. What would it be like, he wondered, when those   
skyscrapers were replaced by spires of magic crystal? What would   
they look like in the afternoon light?  
  
For that matter, what did his parents look like? When was the   
last time he thought about that--*really* thought about that?   
Shoulders slumped in defeat, Mamoru turned his back on the cityscape   
and flopped down on the couch.  
  
"Okay, maybe I am in denial, just a little, but it just   
doesn't seem...real, you know? I've had all of maybe fifteen minutes   
to try to cope with the fact that my mom and dad may have been..."  
  
Murdered. Just saying the word aloud would mean admitting that   
all of this was...no, *might be* true. Thankfully, Artemis did not   
complete his sentence for him.   
  
Once upon a time, he remembered, or thought he remembered,   
snips and pieces of his childhood from before the accident. As he   
grew older, however, he began to suspect that these were not really   
memories, but bits of filler his brain had constructed out of old TV   
shows, movies, or things he had read in books. The times he'd tried,   
all he could remember of his parents were backlit impressions of   
impossibly tall people whose prominent features were legs encased in   
trousers or a skirt. Faces loomed high above his six year old body,   
like huge black clouds against the sun. Voices were nothing more   
than unintelligible rumbles. If that was all the memory he had, how   
was he supposed to remember who might have wanted them dead? How was   
he supposed to feel any affection or attachment to obscure shapes   
and indistinct grumblings? They didn't even have names. Was it Mom,   
Mama, Mommy...?   
  
Detective Seidou hadn't volunteered to show him any   
photographs. They always took photographs at a crime scene, didn't   
they? She could have at least brought along a photograph.   
  
He should be more upset, he decided. That's what should happen   
in a situation like this, right? Was he in shock? Yes, that was it,   
he thought. That might be why he didn't feel much of anything   
besides a little dizzy. Probably just as well he was sitting down   
again. He would have to watch himself--his sleep patterns, his   
appetite, unprovoked fits of anger...  
  
"So, what are you going to do now?" Artemis asked softly.  
  
Mamoru ran a hand down his face, as if trying to wipe away the   
dizziness and the events of the past hour and a half. "I need to   
call Usa-ko and tell her what's going on," he said.   
  
For a moment, he considered simply not telling her about   
Detective Seidou's visit. The last thing she needed was one more   
thing to worry about. On the other hand, she was bound to find out   
about it sooner or later. Artemis would be sure to tell Minako, and   
Minako would never be able to keep a secret like that for very long.   
Knowing that he had lied to her would hurt Usa-ko far more than any   
short-lived anxiety. Plus, he would have bet his future medical   
career that they hadn't seen the last of those two detectives.  
  
He looked at the card that Detective Seidou had left. "You're   
right about one thing, Artemis. There's definitely something strange   
about those two. I'm certain I've seen the American before, but I   
don't know when," he chuckled bitterly, "or in what life. Also, when   
they got here, something pretty powerful come in with them." He   
thought about how best to describe it. "I definitely felt some sort   
of energy, but held in reserve, like water held back by a dam."  
  
"Did it seem familiar in any way? And please tell me that it   
didn't seem foreboding or ominous or anything like that. Just for   
once, it would be nice to have something enormously powerful turn   
out only to be dropping by for a cup of tea and a friendly chat."  
  
Mamoru appreciated the attempt to make him laugh, but it just   
didn't work. "It didn't seem good or bad. It was just...there. I   
couldn't sense it clearly enough to know whether it was familiar or   
not. What we need is for Rei or Hotaru or Michiru to 'accidentally'   
bump into one of them. I also get the feeling that Seidou is a   
regular Inspector Javert when it comes to following a lead."  
  
There was also the sensation he'd had when she touched the   
scar on his hand, but that may have just been the unexpected   
intimacy of the contact. He reminded himself that this intense,   
shabby little woman apparently sat by his hospital bed, waiting for   
him to regain consciousness. The way his mother would have, if she   
had been alive, he thought.  
  
Except that his mother wouldn't have been waiting to   
interrogate him when he woke up.  
  
"So you're going to tell the others?" asked Artemis.  
  
Mamoru grabbed a tissue and used it to pick up Seidou's card.   
He tucked it into his wallet. "I'll at least tell them that there's   
a detective snooping around. If anything, they need to know so that   
they can be extra-careful about guarding their identities." Artemis   
flicked his whiskers forward in approval. Mamoru picked up the phone   
again and started dialing. "Given what I felt, I also want Rei to do   
a reading on this business card. Did the American happen to drop   
anything, or leave anything behind?"  
  
Artemis jumped up on the chair that Detective Wright had used   
and sniffed around, jammed his paws under the cushions, then hopped   
back down and crawled around and under the chair.  
  
"Nothing, but you really need to vacuum in here."  
  
Mamoru gave the cat a dirty look as he waited for Usagi to   
answer her cell phone.  
  
"Mamo-chan? Is that you? Where are you?" she demanded.  
  
"I got held up," he said. This was not the sort of thing he   
wanted to explain on the phone. "Artemis and I will be over there in   
about fifteen minutes or so. There's something I need to talk to you   
all about."  
  
"Is everything all right?" she asked. "You sound kind of   
stressed."  
  
Damn! He thought fast. "Usa-ko, why don't you meet for me at   
the bottom of the shrine steps in fifteen minutes. There *is*   
something going on, but I don't want to share it with the others   
just yet. Do you think you can get away for a few seconds?"  
  
There was a moment's silence. Usagi kept forgetting that he   
couldn't hear a nod through the phone. "It's nothing serious, is   
it?" she quavered.  
  
If only he knew. "It's...confusing. Don't worry, Usa-ko. I'll   
be there shortly. Until then, just remember that I love you. Will   
you be all right until I get there?"  
  
Again, silence. Then, a very faint "yes."  
  
He signed off with another "I love you" and a strict order for   
her not to worry, then put the phone down and let out a deep breath.  
  
He'd told Artemis that this investigation had nothing to do   
with his past life. Why then, when he had looked into the eyes of   
that American detective, had he been certain that he knew this man?   
As he tried to sort out what might have caused him to react so   
strongly to the man's presence, another thought began to form in his   
mind. It started taking scraps of suspicion from here and bits of   
fact from there and came dangerously close to cobbling together a   
conclusion.  
  
There is a reason why someone might want to kill your parents   
in that way, went this thought, A very, very good reason. The pieces   
of the puzzle dangled within his reach, just waiting for him to put   
them together and see what they spelled.  
  
Mamoru pushed the thought roughly aside and grabbed his keys.   
"Come on, Artemis. Let's not keep them waiting any longer than we   
have to."  
  
By the time the two of them reached the shrine, the little   
pieces of answer had faded back into his subconscious, where they   
could no longer tempt him to think the unthinkable.  
  
  
7:30 p.m.  
  
Usagi and Mamoru walked slowly back towards the Tsukino house.   
After the meeting, Ami and Minako headed over towards Makoto's   
apartment for a study session. The Outer Senshi, except for Hotaru,   
went straight home. ChibiUsa invited Hotaru over for dinner. It had   
hardly taken any persuading to get the two girls to run off ahead   
with Luna as chaperone.  
  
"ChibiUsa's probably telling Hotaru all about what a witch I   
am," Usagi said.  
  
"She really loves you, you know that, Usa-ko."  
  
Usagi playfully punched him in the ribs. "You don't think I'm   
being serious, do you? I'm really glad she's here right now. It's   
good to see her having fun. It's amazing how much she's changed   
since she first landed on our heads all those years ago."  
  
"She has grown up, hasn't she?" asked Mamoru.  
  
Usagi thought he sounded mournful. He shouldn't. After all,   
he'd have another chance to see his daughter grow up. An image   
popped into her head and she giggled. "I know. It would hurt more if   
she landed on us now."  
  
"Do you think they bought it?" he said, suddenly. "I hate to   
lie to everyone, but you know what would happen if I told them what   
Detective Seidou was really doing."  
  
Usagi nodded. Everyone would want to "help." Although he   
hadn't said so in so many words, Usagi knew that her Mamo-chan had   
been deeply shaken by Seidou's unexpected revelations. "Maybe we can   
tell them more about it later, once you've had some time to think."   
She slid her arm through the crook of Mamoru's elbow and pulled   
herself up close to him. "If you think about it, we didn't really   
lie to them. We just didn't tell them everything, that's all."  
  
When she met them at the shrine steps, Artemis and Mamoru told   
them about what had happened. Usagi noticed that Artemis had done   
most of the talking. The three of them decided not to say too much   
right now, but also that they had to warn the Senshi to be on their   
guard, especially when it came to protecting their identities. That   
meant that not saying anything was out of the question. Finally,   
Artemis said that they should say that the detectives had wanted to   
talk to Mamoru about whoever it was that was paying his rent and   
other expenses.  
  
"They did ask a lot of questions about that, after all," the   
cat said.  
  
The others were curious, of course, but the explanation   
sounded reasonable enough. Besides, they were all to eager to tell   
Mamoru about the golem, and also about the pink-haired woman who was   
apparently his mother.  
  
"It doesn't seem fair that I can't remember my parents from   
either life," Mamoru said.  
  
Usagi's heart sank. It didn't seem fair at all. She had both   
parents. She'd even been able to speak with Queen Serenity, after a   
fashion. Now, she was starting to recall the face of the man who had   
been her father. She ran her fingers through one of her ponytails,   
looking at the gold that had somehow been passed down to her.  
  
"I wish I could help you remember, Mamo-chan." What had his   
father been like? His fair skin, blue eyes, raven-black hair, none   
of these had been present in the picture of Rosamund. Maybe he   
resembled his father the way she resembled Queen Serenity. "Who   
knows, maybe you'll start to dream like the rest of us."  
  
Artemis trotted out from behind a privet hedge. "You two had   
enough alone time, or should I disappear again? Minako and the   
others are more interested in the golems than in your difficulties,   
so you should be safe."  
  
For a moment, the disapproving tone made Artemis sound more   
like Luna.  
  
"So, Usagi-chan. Do you really think that this business about   
Mamoru's parents cropping up at the same time as these wacky dreams   
is a coincidence, or do you think that Mamoru-kun's just being   
stubborn as a mule?"  
  
"Artemis!"  
  
"He might be right, Mamo-chan," Usagi said, while at the same   
time resisting the urge to kick Artemis back into the hedge.  
  
"I don't know. As I keep trying to tell a certain someone,   
this investigation is about my own past, not Endymion's. If they   
were connected, then why didn't I have dreams like the rest of you?"  
  
"That's what's got me confused," Usagi said. "I mean, why did   
only some of us have dreams, and not the others."  
  
"Haruka, Hotaru, and Setsuna said they didn't dream about the   
past. Anyone else?" asked Artemis.  
  
"Makoto and Michiru," Usagi said. "At first, I thought that   
maybe this was just us getting our old memories back, the way we got   
some back when we fought Beryl and Neherenia, like maybe we were   
supposed to remember everything now."  
  
"Why? Why now?" Mamoru asked. "Except for the golem, nothing's   
going on right now."  
  
"Well, we are getting ready to go to college," Usagi mused,   
forming the thought as she spoke. "Maybe we were meant to remember   
when we grew up, you know, to get us ready for Crystal Tokyo and   
everything."  
  
"So why were Makoto and I left out? And what about the Outer   
Senshi?"  
  
Usagi shrugged. She didn't like to think about why Haruka and   
the others were left out. It always bothered her that ChibiUsa had   
never mentioned them, and that she had not recognized Neptune and   
Uranus when they finally appeared.  
  
"Do you want to come in? Mom wouldn't mind an extra for   
dinner, you know that." In fact, when Mom wasn't encouraging her to   
bring Mamoru over for a meal, she was pressing bags of leftovers   
into Usagi's hand with order to make sure that Mamoru was eating   
properly. "She really likes you, you know."  
  
"She'd better. I'd love to stay, but I've got an early class.   
I'd better go. Besides, I've still got all of those leftovers from   
Mako-chan. Don't think I don't know what the two of them are up to.   
Not that I mind, of course."  
  
They had reached the Tsukino's at the front gate. Artemis   
discreetly turned the other way as Mamoru gave Usagi a long kiss   
goodnight.  
  
Usagi watched as Mamoru walked off. Just before he disappeared   
around the corner, he stopped and waved. She waved back, then went   
into the house. She could hear Hotaru and ChibiUsa giggling as they   
played one of her video games. It was a wonderful sound, one that   
warmed her heart and made her almost sad at the same time.  
  
Two happy little girls, best of friends. One who seemed to   
have no future, and one who might have her entire future erased if   
they weren't careful. Usagi stood in the foyer for a minute,   
listening to the precious, fragile laughter, and storing it up in   
her heart.  
  
  
9:15 p.m.  
  
"Michiru-love, do you think we're doing a decent job raising   
Hotaru?"  
  
Michiru mumbled a sleepy yes, and leaned her head into the   
crook of Haruka's shoulder. Haruka shrugged that shoulder, forcing   
Michiru to sit back up.  
  
"I mean it! Do you think that Hotaru's okay living with us?"  
  
Why, oh why did Haruka always want to bring up serious matters   
when it was time to go to bed?  
  
"Now that you mention it, perhaps we should turn her out on   
the street and let the Gypsies take care of her."  
  
"Michiru! Be serious!"  
  
"Why should I?" she murmured. "Just because you had a little   
tiff with Hotaru doesn't mean that you're a bad parent."  
  
Haruka shifted again, unintentionally forcing Michiru to lean   
against the back of the couch rather than against her lover. "So she   
told you about that, did she?"  
  
Michiru giggled. "I wish I could have been there to see the   
two of you arguing up in that tree. It's not the end of the world,   
love."  
  
"Well, it was almost the end of Hotaru. I think that the fight   
she had with that what-d'you-call-it..."  
  
"Golem."  
  
"Right. I get the feeling that the fight was much, much closer   
than she's letting on. She still seems a little shaky. I don't know   
why she won't say anything, though. Maybe she wants us to think that   
she can take care of herself."  
  
"Haruka?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Michiru slid one arm behind Haruka's back and hugged her   
close. "You *are* a good parent. Hotaru's so much better off with us   
than she was with that so-called father of hers."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
This wasn't going anywhere positive. Michiru pulled her arm   
free, stood up and gave Haruka a quick, soft kiss on the side of her   
mouth.  
  
"Hey! Where are you going?"  
  
"Bed. I'm exhausted."  
  
Haruka grabbed onto Michiru's wrist. Not tightly, but enough   
that Michiru didn't see how she could pull free without appearing to   
reject her. "It's not even nine-thirty! Are you all right? You've   
been kind of out of it the last couple of days. You're not coming   
down with anything, are you?"  
  
Next thing she knew, Haruka would be checking her forehead for   
a temperature. "No, I just had a long day, that's all."  
  
Haruka looked up at her sternly. "Don't 'that's all' me. I can   
tell something's wrong, love. It's your mother again, isn't it?"  
  
"Oh, Haruka! My mother's a nuisance, but I'm a big girl, and I   
can live my own life."  
  
"I'm not sure she sees it that way. Can't you just tell her   
that it's your decision what you do with your musical career?"  
  
"I could, but she wouldn't listen. Eventually, she'll figure   
it out on her own." Michiru lifted her arm, bringing Haruka's hand   
up with it. She kissed the underside of Haruka's wrist, flicking the   
soft skin gently with her tongue. Startled, Haruka let go of   
Michiru's wrist. "I'm fine, my sweet, worried Haruka. It's just that   
I have a lot going on right now and I'm tired. One good night's   
sleep, and I shall be as right as the proverbial rain." She giggled.   
"I hate to think how Minako would mangle that expression."  
  
"Do...do you want me to come upstairs with you?" Haruka asked.  
  
The huskiness in Haruka's voice was impossible to miss. "You   
go ahead and watch your program," Michiru said gently, brushing her   
fingers across Haruka's bangs so lightly that the hair hardly moved.   
"I'm just going to take a quick shower and go straight to bed. I'll   
probably be dead asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow." She   
headed up the stairs. "Good night, love."  
  
"'Night." The television turned to the unmistakable roars and   
crashes of World Rally.  
  
Michiru stopped halfway up the stairs. "You know," she said   
coyly, "I might be so tired that I'll have trouble falling asleep."  
  
She heard a snort of laughter from downstairs. "I'll give you   
half an hour. How does that sound?"  
  
"You'll just have to take your chances," said Michiru. "I'll   
see you in thirty minutes, or I'll see you in the morning."  
  
She really shouldn't tease Haruka like that, but she adored   
seeing her love become all flustered and gruff and ardent. What   
would have happened, she wondered, if they had met in the Silver   
Millennium?  
  
The wondering got lost in the motion of the distant tides.   
These days, it was as if she was constantly aware of the ocean. It   
mesmerized and tranquilized and it moved through her veins. Michiru   
headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. She used to like to   
soak in the furo for a good long time, but the deep tub now seemed   
so inconsequential compared to the pull of the ocean depths.  
  
She knew she should tell the others about what was going on,   
but she wasn't ready to share something this personal, not even with   
Haruka. Someday, maybe, once she was sure her lover would   
understand.  
  
Normally, she might worry about this, but her mind was already   
casting itself out upon the waters. She slid between the sheets,   
sank into sleep and into the depths, and by the time Haruka came up   
to bed, Michiru was thousands of miles and millions of years away.  
  
  
10:45 p.m.  
  
Taiyouko fought back another yawn. She should give up on   
working on the angel for the night. Stitching with white thread on   
cream-colored fabric in iffy light could only lead to migraines and   
having to pick out hours of work the next day.   
  
She carefully put everything back, putting the floss back into   
its bag, carefully removing the canvas from the frame and refolding   
it so that she didn't keep using the same crease lines.  
  
There was no avoiding it now. She was alone in her apartment   
with this thing in her head. It was awake, prodding at her, wanting   
to move her along, goad her, use her. It was pushing button after   
button, wanting her to get angry, wanting her to go after someone.  
  
There were words for people who thought they could sense other   
beings living inside their minds. 'Nutball' was only one of many   
that came to mind.  
  
This thing that she'd sensed ever since this case was reopened   
certainly didn't feel like a delusion. It felt real, and it felt   
urgent. Now she understood why some poor bastards ended up wearing   
tinfoil hats, warning all and sundry about the coming apocalypse,   
and developing a distressingly casual attitude towards personal   
hygiene.   
  
She might sense something living in her head, Taiyouko   
acknowledged, but she was not stupid, and she certainly wasn't   
scared.  
  
And she was reasonably certain that she was not crazy.  
  
She already knew that this thing could not break through her   
concentration. She could feel it when she was working on the fine-  
weave linen, counting thread by thread as she stitched. She had felt   
its impatience grow as she worked pale silk over slightly less pale   
fabric.   
  
You need me, she had thought during one break as she closed   
her aching eyes and rolled her head to get rid of the stiff neck.   
You can't force me to do anything, can you, she thought.  
  
The impatience was then tinged with exasperation. Taiyouko   
chuckled and the thing reflected her own amusement. Now, she had   
finished working for the night and it was time to confront the   
lurker. Taiyouko believed in being up front with people, even if she   
didn't believe they existed.  
  
First things first. "So, who are you, then?"  
  
I am you, the thing said.  
  
"Bullshit!"  
  
We are the same.  
  
"Heh. Right. Listen, you. I need more than some touchy-feely   
'I am he as you are me and we are all together' crap before I'll buy   
into that one."  
  
She could have sworn that the thing quoted "I am the walrus,   
goo goo ga joob" right back at her, but it was probably her own so-  
called sense of humor.  
  
"And you, whoever you are, you know what they say about people   
who talk to the voices in their heads, right?"  
  
There was a definite feeling of disgust, as if the thing   
wanted to know if she was expecting it to produce a picture I.D.  
  
"That might do it," she said, "but no go. Now, you have ten   
seconds to get straight with me, otherwise we'll see what happens   
when I go to a doctor and start talking about these delusions."  
  
Silence.  
  
"So you think you can stand up to a dose of Thorazine? See,   
the problem here is that I don't put all that much credence in   
spirits and visitations. If you can't convince me that you're real   
and that you've got good reason to be all wound up about Wright and   
Chiba, I'm going to medicate you out of existence. Are we straight   
on that?"  
  
She wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, but it almost   
sounded like the thing let out a sigh.  
  
Why, the thing seemed to say, can't you just trust me. Trust   
us? I am you after all. We want the same thing.  
  
"A Mild Seven? I've got a serious nicotine craving right now,   
how about you?"  
  
The lurker indicated that it would not be averse to a   
cigarette or seventeen. Then, it started to apologize for something.  
  
"Hey, all I want is to know what's going on, that's all.   
Something's going on, and I want to know what it has to do with   
Chiba and...oh."  
  
She lurched to her feet. The apartment was shaking and   
spinning as if they were caught in an earthquake. But it wasn't an   
earthquake. It was her.  
  
What the hell was this thing doing to her?  
  
Watch, it said. I don't remember much, but at least I can show   
you this.  
  
Taiyouko fell to her knees, cursing with pain as one knee came   
down hard on her sewing box. The apartment faded from view as billow   
after billow of smoke rolled past. She could see flashes of   
something in the distance. Whatever it was arced like lightning, but   
it was the wrong color and seemed somehow alive. With the visions   
came smell. The sort of smells she associated with murder scenes.   
The sort of smells she might find at an arson case. She was at the   
top of a marble staircase leading down towards what might have been   
a lake. The stairs were covered with bodies sprawled in unnatural   
positions, congealing blood slowly running down the once-white   
steps. She thought she recognized the bodies.  
  
Taiyouko started to cough, then started to gasp for air. Her   
lungs were filling with air, but her brain didn't know that. It told   
her that she was choking to death. She clawed at her throat, trying   
to dislodge whatever it was that kept her from getting any air.   
Anger and fear coursed through her body, jolting her like bolt after   
bolt of lightning.  
  
Vengeance, she thought. Whoever you are, you want vengeance.  
  
No, said the thing. Not vengeance.  
  
Justice.  
  
Justice? Taiyouko's throat finally relaxed and the room swam   
back into view. The only thing she could smell was the normal stale   
curry smell of her apartment.  
  
She felt the thing nod. I am still trying to understand what   
happened, it said. I do know that I shouldn't be here now. I used to   
have a reason for being here, separate from you yet with you, but   
that job is over, now. I do not know why I am still here, except   
that justice has not yet been done.  
  
"God-damned cryptic bastard! What the hell are you talking   
about! Stop acting like a fortune cookie!"  
  
I can't give you the answers you want, because I still do not   
know them myself.  
  
"Great. Just great..."  
  
Now, I think you had better sleep. Sleep, and forget all of   
this. All I know for sure, and all that you should remember, is that   
Jason Wright and Mamoru Chiba are not who they seem.  
  
"Huh. Well, screw you, 'me.' You're about as much use as a   
Magic Eight-ball! And if you think I'm going to forget about   
this..."  
  
Taiyouko grabbed onto the arm of her chair and pulled herself   
to her feet. It was about time she got some sleep, she thought. Bath   
first, though. It would help her relax. Somehow, she'd managed to   
get herself all wound up and angry about something. About what, she   
didn't know.  
  
She shrugged and headed to the bathroom. It was probably just   
the nicotine withdrawal.  
  
  
10:57 p.m.  
  
Setsuna sat up in bed, brushing out her hair. As usual, her   
television filled the background with faint noise. Although she   
cherished her privacy, absolute silence reminded her too much of the   
Gates of Time. Noise meant that things were happening, that time was   
passing. Noise meant that she no longer had to be alone.  
  
Funny how that meeting at the shrine had turned out. Hearing   
the girls' stories and seeing Minako's and Usagi's pictures had sent   
memory after memory fluttering though her mind as in a shower of   
confetti. Basilius. Bast-Sekhmet, Macha niMorrigan, and Kuwanya'uma,   
gone to their own worlds long before the Senshi were born. And then   
there was her father. Her sisters.  
  
None of these memories had been lost to her, not really. If   
she had taken the time to think about it, she would have remembered.   
It was almost like going through an old photo album for the first   
time in years, each photograph at once strange and familiar, and   
unearthing a trove of other memories that had been shelved long ago.  
  
The memories were not surprising. What was surprising was the   
delight she felt as each memory led to the next. Names, faces,   
feelings, smells, colors, all of the strange little details that   
worked together to create a sort of happy homesickness.  
  
Given how the Silver Millennium ended--not that she could   
remember, not exactly, not yet--it surprised her that she was not   
feeling something more like grief, or even remorse. Guarding the   
Gates of Time must have given her the, well, the *time* to grieve.   
In this life, she now had only a distant memory of how her former   
self lay huddled against the giant doors, shivering with sobs and   
self-loathing and guilt. During the time she sat there, insensate   
with misery, the survivors of mankind worked at rediscovering   
language, and at clinging to life in a post-Glaive world of   
glaciers, giant carnivores, and continuous tectonic upheaval.   
  
By the time that Sailor Pluto returned to something like   
sanity, a band of nomads had dug a small fire-pit and set up a lean-  
to in a place that would one day be a city named Hallstadt, better   
known to anthropologists as the oldest continuous human settlement.   
  
If time heals all wounds, then Sailor Pluto should have been   
the healthiest being in all of creation.  
  
But Setsuna was not entirely sure that she was the same person   
as that Sailor Pluto. Sailor Pluto had lived for hundreds of   
thousands, perhaps even millions of years. Her twenty-four years as   
Setsuna Meiou--not even a full quarter of a century as time was now   
reckoned--seemed far more momentous in comparison.  
  
Then, too, she knew the story's ending. She knew that the   
deaths of the Senshi, of Serenity, of the Eunomia, and all the   
others was not the senseless waste of the Charge of the Light   
Brigade. Rather, it was more like the passing of Arthur into Avalon,   
with the heroes riding forth at the hour of greatest need.  
  
It was like stumbling across a favorite and forgotten book   
from childhood, and finding to one's surprise and delight that the   
book was just as wonderful as before, and that as you read of the   
characters and their adventures, you were at once pulled along by   
the narrative, gasping in surprise at revelations and holding one's   
breath at the cliffhangers, all the while saying over and over to   
oneself, "Yes, I remember this. How could I ever have forgotten   
anything so wondrous as this?"  
  
For now, she would dwell in these pleasant memories,   
forgetting the darker parts of the Silver Millennium and its   
foundation. The wars with Chaos. Metallia. The sundering of Rhea.   
Stories that she was not yet ready to share with the others. Then,   
there was the matter of Thorn and Cerelia. Mamoru was shaken enough   
to learn about Lady Rosamund. Setsuna suspected that this might not   
be the best time to explain the rest of his convoluted family tree,   
and how different things could have been. Setsuna wasn't even sure   
she understood it herself.  
  
Of course, in time, she would have to explain these things,   
and she hoped that the others would understand why she had held   
back.  
  
When you had to tell a young child the story of Hiroshima and   
Nagasaki, you showed pictures of ruined buildings, and explained   
about the bright, bright light. You might even tell them a lot of   
people became very sick.  
  
You did not show them the silhouette of a young child burned   
into a brick wall. You did not tell them about birth defects and   
cancer. You did not show them people dying of radiation poisoning,   
writhing in agony as their skin sloughed away.  
  
The more pressing issue, as Setsuna saw it, was what was going   
on with the golems. Golems weren't much of a problem in and of   
themselves. All one had to do was destroy their mark, and they would   
fall to pieces. They could, however cause a lot of damage. They   
could be ordered to kill.  
  
What worried her more than the golems was the question of who   
had sent them. There was more to their making than simply putting   
together a Gumby doll and carving the right symbol on its forehead.   
She wondered if Michiru would be up to trying to track whoever it   
was that had sent these things. Setsuna put down her brush and   
leaned back on her pillows.   
  
Poor Michiru. She had been so tired and withdrawn lately. All   
she had been able to gather from Haruka was that Michiru was   
currently having it out with her mother. Setsuna had never met   
Kaiou-san, but...  
  
She focused on the television. The entertainment reporter was   
going on brightly about yet another Senshi Spotting. How on earth   
did they get classified as *entertainment*, wondered Setsuna. Then   
again, she thought, they lived in idol-crazy Japan. What else could   
you expect? Even Usagi had caved in and bought a Sailor Moon cell-  
phone cover.  
  
The reporter went on and on, speculating about this that and   
the other thing, much of it crude, all of it false. Enough already,   
thought Setsuna. Show us the footage. She was curious to know who   
had been out in uniform recently. Except for Hotaru, no one had   
mentioned having to transform for any reason within the past two   
months.  
  
Maybe they needed something to spice up the news and had dug   
back into file footage. That was probably it, thought Setsuna. She   
picked up the remote and was about to turn the television off, when   
the announcer said something completely unexpected. She jacked up   
the volume.  
  
"...leaves us to wonder just who this new Sailor Senshi is."  
  
"You have *got* to be kidding me!" There *were* no more Sailor   
Senshi! Even the children of Rhea were accounted for! She willed the   
smarmy reporter to stop gushing and start rolling film.  
  
"As you know, we Senshi Spotters have often speculated as to   
why no one has ever seen Sailor Earth, or Sailor Sun."  
  
Setsuna *tsk'd* and shook her head. There was no Sailor Earth,   
or Sailor Sun. Serenity didn't have the authority to appoint those.   
The Earth and Sun already had Endymion and Helios, respectively.   
Besides, Thorn would never have suffered the existence of anyone   
claiming the title of Sailor Earth, and as for a Sailor Sun...well,   
she could practically hear Ananke laughing her fool head off at that   
idea.  
  
"Well, take a look at this, fellow Spotters, and tell me what   
you think of this beautiful young lady."  
  
He started the video. (Senshi Spotters paid handsomely for   
amateur video of the Senshi. Minako had made some good money before   
Makoto threatened to ram the camcorder down her throat.)  
  
It was so brief that she almost missed it. A flash of a girl   
in a yellow skirt with a shimmering pale yellow bow leaping across   
the space between two buildings. A red braid trailed behind her like   
a pennant.  
  
"No way..."  
  
Those colors. That hair.  
  
They played the video again. "Ladies and gentlemen, with that   
red hair, and the yellow and gold fuku, this can only be Sailor   
Sun."  
  
The sacred colors of the Eunomia. The colors of gold.  
  
Setsuna wrapped her arms around herself, and shook her head   
slowly, trying to logic this tape out of existence.   
  
"They couldn't have... They *wouldn't* have... Oh, please, no.   
No. Wasn't the damned Glaive *enough?*  
  
Rewind. Girl in yellow skirt leaps, disappears. "We don't have   
any other confirmation of this yet, so be sure to keep your eyes   
open and your cameras at the ready!"  
  
Rewind. Play.  
  
Setsuna covered her mouth with her hand, willing herself not   
to scream, willing herself not to be sick. This was not happening.   
This could not be happening. The Eunomia would never have anointed a   
Sailor Sun. This couldn't happen, not now, not with Usagi so close   
to becoming NeoQueen Serenity. It couldn't! The Eunomia had *stepped   
down*, dammit! The rules had changed!  
  
Stepped down? Right. Tell that to the people of Rhea. Oops,   
that's right, you can't! Why? Because they're all *dead*, that's   
why!  
  
But even the person on the television wasn't sure it was   
Sailor Sun, right? It wasn't as if the strange girl had given her   
name. Would Setsuna even have thought of the Eunomia if it hadn't   
been for the meeting today? It could be a fake. It was probably just   
some sort of publicity stunt. Somebody probably got clever with CGI   
and trick photography. Or maybe it was just a Senshi from another   
system, like the Starlights of Kinmoku.  
  
Or like Galaxia.  
  
Please, let it be a fake. Please.  
  
"That's all for this month's installment of Senshi Spotters.   
If you have original video of one of the Senshi in action be sure to   
send us a copy here at the station! Thank you and good night!" 


	6. Falling

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon is not my property. I never claimed it was. I am merely borrowing the characters so that I can write this story. I am also borrowing some characters and situations from Homicide: Life on the Streets. I don't own that either.  
  
Comments and criticisms are always welcome. I am actively revising the first five chapters of this fic, so any help is welcome. This is also my first time posting anything in Word format, so if it doesn't work, I will repost as soon as possible. My thanks to those who have already reviewed and commented, including my beta-readers, Ice Princess and bell.  
  
  
  
Empire of the Sun  
  
Chapter Six: Falling  
  
Tuesday, July 3  
  
5:48 a.m.  
  
Down, down, down she went, the pressure building up around her body. She could feel the subtle changes in her body chemistry as it adapted to differing pressures, and differing absorption rates, keeping oxygen flowing through her blood and to her brain.  
  
Neptune continued to kick her way down through the dark waters, feeling her way by sound rather than sight. The few blurry spots of light far below her were not stars, but signs of distant life—the odd deep-dwellers that had adapted to a crushing, sunless life.  
  
The voyage became both easier and more difficult with each passing. She could get further along under her own power, but then she had less help than she had before. The circular breathing, taking water in through the nose and simultaneously expelling it through the mouth in a continuous flow, came quickly to her after a few minor mishaps. She now only had problems with it when she stopped to think about the process.  
  
The first time she had voluntarily taken frigid salt water into her lungs, it shocked her awake. Now, in her dreams, breathing water seemed easier than breathing thin, wispy air. Taking the water into herself, she became one with her surroundings. Subtle currents told her of a school of fish swimming far above her. The sudden disruption of that pattern, feeding dolphins cutting a swath through the mass of fish.  
  
She recognized the myriad of strange and wonderful sea-creatures, memorialized on the mosaic dome of Castle Triton. These were not creatures of Triton's seas—except for the dolphins who had willingly joined the original colonists, she remembered. She quickly realized that she was on Earth, and that within the space of just a few dreams, she had left the waters off her native Japan. Now, the deep songs of the cetaceans and other semi-sentient ocean creatures were arias celebrating the rough rocks off the coasts of Labrador and Greenland, and tone-poems about the unreachable, invisible deeps of the Mariana Trench where the bones of the ancestors had fallen and had long since lost their substance to the waters. They sang of migration, of kinship, and of the killing harpoon. They sang of the cycle of predator and prey that was part survival and part ritual. These were not the flat recordings of humpback whales that she'd seen in the New Age section of the CD store. These were more symphonies than songs, scored not to be heard by the ear, but to be sensed by the entire body.  
  
The one, tiny part of Neptune that was not entranced by the pull of the deeps wondered how she could ever transcribe such music for the violin.  
  
Then, beneath the songs of the ocean creatures, was a deeper, older song. This is what pulled her on night after night, each time getting closer, but never quite all the way there. It called her and welcomed her. She had started sleeping during the day now, giving herself more time to dream and bring her closer and closer to the source of the song. She had to find out what it was. She had to find out who was singing.  
  
Several times, she came close to telling Haruka and the others about this mysterious singer in her dreams, but each time, something made her hold her tongue. Maybe it was the feeling that this discovery was for her and for her alone to make. Maybe then she could tell what was going on. If she spoke too soon, Haruka would worry. The others might find some way to stop her with spirit wards or mystical healing. Maybe today she would find the singer and—  
  
The sudden clamor of the alarm clock knocked her out of the dream and into the harshness of daylight and insubstantial air. Michiru gasped and choked on the empty air. Her lungs felt as if they had nothing to grab onto. The muscles in her chest went into spasm as her mind told her body one thing and her body told her mind another.  
  
Haruka's arms were around her in an instant, giving her warmth and something to breathe against.  
  
"Michiru! What is it? Can you breathe...dear God, you're cold!" Haruka pulled the blanket closer around Michiru and bundled the shivering girl to her chest. "Shh. Shh. It's all right. I'm right here."  
  
Michiru gradually stopped shivering as her body warmed up and she got used to the sensation of breathing good old garden-variety air. Much of the substance of her dream slid from her mind, leaving only the desire to go back to the darkness and the depths. "Haruka?"  
  
"I'm right here, love. I'll always be here." Haruka gently lifted Michiru's chin so that Michiru was looking directly into her lover's storm-gray eyes. "You can't tell me that something's not wrong," she said with no trace of humor. "You're thrashing around in your sleep, acting like a zombie half the time."  
  
"It's just stress, Haruka-love. I'll deal with it."  
  
"For a minute there I thought you were choking to death!" Haruka yelled. "You just about scared me to death! I don't care if it's just stress or not, you're going to the doctor to have this checked out!"  
  
"Haruka..."  
  
"Today." Haruka's stern expression softened, and she smiled. "For me? Maybe it's nothing, but get it checked out. You know you hate it when I worry."  
  
Michiru hugged her partner tightly. "For you, Haruka. And please, don't worry. This will all be over soon, I'm sure of it."  
  
Any day now, she thought. Any day now, I'll find what I'm looking for, and then everything will be all right.  
  
8:25 a.m.  
  
"Five minutes 'til the bell," said Minako. She grabbed Makoto by the sleeve. "Don't go anywhere just yet, Mako-chan."  
  
"Let me put my shoes in my locker," said Makoto. She raised one eyebrow. "You know what Kaneda-sensei said would happen if we were late again."  
  
Minako flicked away the comment as if she were shooing away a moth. "We've got time. This'll only take a minute." She looked around. The crowds in the hallway were thinning out.  
  
"Is this business, or…"  
  
Minako smiled coyly, and laid one finger impishly alongside her mouth. "I was thinking that it's been a couple of months since our last 'girls night out,' hmm?"  
  
"Ohhh…Yeah, it has." The grin on Makoto's face could only be called feral. A couple of passing boys decided that they should hurry to class. Makoto didn't even notice them. "It'll be good to get out…meet people."  
  
"Mmm. Darn tootin'. It's been a while since I've had a chance to get all dressed up."  
  
Makoto spotted Ami at her locker. "Let's see if Ami's free tonight after study-buddies. She might like a break."  
  
Ami had only gone out on the town with Makoto and Minako a couple of times, but she always seemed to enjoy herself, Makoto thought. They could ask Usagi, too, but she generally preferred spending any free time with Mamoru.  
  
Minako was just about to call out to the smaller girl when Ami took a carefully folded square of paper out her locker.  
  
"Uh-oh," groaned Makoto.  
  
"What-oh, uh-oh?" asked Minako. Then she saw Ami open the hand-crafted envelope. "Whoops. Not good. Not good at all."  
  
A little further along down the hall, one of the junior boys stood by the door to his classroom, bouncing nervously on his feet and chewing at his lower lip. He stared anxiously at Ami. Tall, athletic, dark-haired, blue- eyed. Not at all bad looking, thought Makoto.  
  
Ami's face erupted in a mass of angry red blotches. The sound of metal against metal echoed through the hall as she slammed her locker shut, turned on her heel, and stalked off to class. As she passed a trash-can, she thrust the note in so violently that the lid spun round-and-round several times before rocking to a stop. Her would-be suitor lowered his head in defeat and slunk into his classroom like a turtle retreating into its shell.  
  
"What is that girl's problem?" Minako wailed. "How can anyone be allergic to love letters?"  
  
"I've never seen her that upset by one," said Makoto. "It must have been mushier than usual."  
  
Minako stared wistfully at the now empty hallway. "It's not fair, is it?"  
  
"Nope." Especially since that boy looked kind of like a younger version of her old sempai. Minako continued to stare at nothing, and Makoto wondered what past event the other girl was seeing in her mind's eye.  
  
"Let's go out around a little after nine," Minako finally said. "I'll sneak out and come over to your place and we can go from there. Slap the streets. Check out the nightlife." She waggled an eyebrow.  
  
"Sounds good. Think we'll get lucky?"  
  
Minako giggled. "Maybe you should bring your dust buster—just in case."  
  
Just then, Usagi sprinted by them at a pace that would leave Sailor Uranus in the dust. She skid-turned into the classroom, somehow managing not to fall. Makoto suspected that the long ponytails helped her maintain balance at high speed.  
  
"That's our cue!" shouted Makoto. "Come on!"  
  
Usagi's timing, honed to within a hundredth of a second by years of practice, got her into her seat just as the bell rang. Her two friends were not quite so fortunate. Such was life, thought Makoto.  
  
Her friend got love letters, she got detention. Same old, same old.  
  
  
  
8:50 a.m.  
  
One look at the angry red rash on Ami's face, and Kaneda-sensei ordered her to the school nurse. The school nurse tsk-tsked, gave Ami some ointment, and sent her home with an order not to study so hard.  
  
"But I like studying!" Ami protested, but to no avail.  
  
"Now, dear. I know that entrance exams are coming up, but you'll do yourself no good if you let yourself get sick because of stress."  
  
"But...but...but..."  
  
The nurse patted her on the back. "Just go home and relax! I hate the way the school system pressures you poor children! One day off won't kill you."  
  
"But..."  
  
She could practically see the light bulb go off above the nurse's head. "Oh, don't worry about your parents. Here, I'll write them a note, tell them to go easy on you for a few days! Would you like that?"  
  
"No!"  
  
Oblivious to everything but her desire to spread sunshine and cheer, the nurse signed the note, folded it, and slipped it into Ami's uniform pocket. "Don't worry. I remember what it was like when I was your age. The worst will soon be over!"  
  
She waved farewell as Ami staggered out of the office, trying to hide the sudden tic in her right eye.  
  
You want stress? Ami thought. She wished she could introduce the nurse to one of the Witches 5. Which one was the perky one, again? Mimete, wasn't it? Oh, to be able to lock the two of them in a room together and weld the door shut...  
  
She sighed, her outrage at the nurse's density fading quickly. It was true that one day off wouldn't kill her. She was ahead in most of her classes, and she knew she would do more than pass her entrance exams. Her goal of a perfect score was a matter of pride and honor. She wanted to be the best. Was that so wrong?  
  
Given her grades, and her mother's connections, Ami knew that she could go study at the medical school of her choice. If she wanted, she could even go to Harvard, Hopkins, Edinburgh, or any number of universities overseas. It would mean leaving Usagi and the others for a few years, but it might be worth it. It would be worth it, if she could be the best possible doctor. In several years, Ami knew, something would happen that would lead to Usagi becoming Queen Serenity.  
  
They knew so little about Crystal Tokyo! Ami's fists clenched reflexively. Even worse, they knew nothing about what lay outside the kingdom of Serenity and Endymion. If ChibiUsa knew anything, she wasn't telling. She probably wasn't allowed to tell, Ami thought. If only they knew what was going to happen! Logic told her that it would probably be preceded by some sort of disaster. If they had the facts, they might not be able to prevent whatever-it-was, but they might be able to lessen the casualties. Her skills as a doctor might very much be needed then.  
  
She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. There's no point worrying about what you can't prevent, she thought. The letter that Daisuke-kun left in her locker had really gotten under her skin. Absently, she scratched at the already fading rash. What was odd was that she had not felt the usual embarrassment, or the melancholy disbelief that anyone could possibly love her. This time, the proclamation of undying love made something twist and catch inside her so that she wanted to scream. It wasn't rage, but it was something similar. It was also something very familiar.  
  
As she neared the Crown Arcade, she finally remembered what it was. It was the same sort of feeling that she'd had when her mother had told her that she had signed the divorce papers sent by her father. It was when she'd finally understood that her father wasn't coming back. She thought about it for a while. The surge of emotion was gone, but she could remember what it had felt like. It wasn't as strong as it had been when she was a little girl, but something about Daisuke-kun's letter had set off a sort of echo.  
  
"I wonder why," she murmured. As she thought some more, the remembered emotion also reminded her of something else. Something to do with her memories of being Egeria. Hmm. Interesting, that. She'd have to go through her notes again, and see if anything made any more sense. In the meantime, she would make good use of this day off and try to find out more about this thing that had attacked Hotaru.  
  
Ami peered through the door of the arcade. They were not open for business yet, but she could see Motoki in there, sitting at the snack bar and chatting with Luna. A feeling of contentment settled over her. She was so glad that Motoki and Unazuki knew about their being Senshi, and about the control room underneath the arcade. She tapped on the glass and Motoki hurried over to unlock the door and let her in.  
  
"Ami-chan! Don't tell me you're skipping school!"  
  
Ami shook her head ruefully and explained the situation, leaving out the bit about Daisuke's note. She let him give her a brotherly hug. "So, any word from Reika?"  
  
"Still in Africa," he said shortly. "So, what's new? Aside from these golem things Luna has been telling me about."  
  
"That's really about it," she said. She got the feeling that he wasn't happy about her asking after Reika. "I thought I'd use the computers downstairs to do a search for any signs of anything odd in the region. You know how it is with us—it never rains but it pours."  
  
"Knock yourself out. Hey, since you're here, can I get you a cup of coffee or anything? I just put on a fresh pot."  
  
Ami started to say "no, thank you," but Luna encouraged her to sit for a moment.  
  
"I do think that the school nurse had a point, Ami-chan. You do push yourself awfully hard."  
  
Motoki brought Ami her coffee. "But she knows how to have fun, too." He winked at her. "People are still trying to erase your high scores off of most of these games."  
  
Ami smiled and stared at the top of the counter.  
  
"Oh, another thing I meant to tell you, Motoki, is that Artemis will be taking my shift at Control this evening," said Luna. "I was a bit surprised when he agreed..."  
  
"I wouldn't be," Motoki drawled. "I get off shift at 5:30, so I'll be heading downstairs."  
  
Both Ami and Luna gave him puzzled looks. Since when did Motoki help out with Control?  
  
"Giants-Swallows game," he explained. "The reception's better down there."  
  
Luna groaned. "Please tell me he's not betting on the Giants again!"  
  
Motoki shrugged. "Okay. I won't tell."  
  
"It's amazing how normal all of this has become, isn't it?" asked Ami. "I never imagined that I'd be using a day off from school to search for mythical creatures. Did you ever imagine that you'd be watching a baseball game in a secret computer room with a talking cat?"  
  
Motoki tilted his head to one side and made a show of thinking about it. "No, actually I used to imagine that I'd grow up to be a secret agent, like James Bond."  
  
Ami finished her coffee and got up. "Well, I'd better get going. I want to do some readings and get out of here before the arcade opens."  
  
"You're welcome to come back later and watch the game with us, if you like," Motoki called as she disappeared behind the Sailor V game.  
  
"Yes. It might be a good idea if you were there to keep Artemis out of trouble," Luna said.  
  
# # # #  
  
An hour later, Ami re-emerged, said a hasty goodbye, and dashed home to her apartment. If the computers were right, she only had today to get this done. She changed out of her uniform, and put on her rattiest tee-shirt and an old pair of shorts. This could get a little messy. Once she found her bus schedule, she left again.  
  
First stop, a kitchen supply store to pick up a large mesh strainer, some cheesecloth and some plastic leftover containers in assorted sizes, including two one-gallon tubs. Then, the garden store for a trowel, stakes, twine, and a pair of work gloves. She could have taken these things from the apartment, but if anything happened, she didn't want to explain their disappearance to her mother. Once she was done, she could dump anything she didn't want to carry home on Haruka's porch.  
  
Her search through the records indicated no unusual activities or occurrences having happened at the construction site where Hotaru was attacked. That didn't rule out the golem being specific to that site as a guardian or watchdog, but it made it much less likely. When she looked at the records of building permits, she found that the site had been inactive for nearly two weeks while waiting for permission to come for digging through to the sewer lines. Work was due to resume on Wednesday.  
  
A few bus transfers and twenty minutes later, Ami was at the construction site. She wandered past the piles of dirt and abandoned equipment. She saw something that might have been a wheelbarrow, and used the Mercury computer to capture a 3-D image of it to study later. Off to the side, she saw a scattered pile of dirt and rocks that did not match the color and texture of its surroundings.  
  
"That must be our golem," she muttered. Fortunately, it was not in sight of the street. She also noticed some dark splotches on the ground. Dried blood, the computer told her. Type AB.  
  
"Oh, Hotaru...you poor thing!" The pattern of droplets was fairly wide, and some of the splotches were not small. Ami hugged herself as her heart shuddered with pity. It wasn't fair that Hotaru had to face this thing alone, and not knowing what it was or how to stop it! Ami looked at the size of the dirt-pile and shivered. If Hotaru hadn't been so lucky with that last swing...  
  
She squared her shoulders, and headed towards the pile with a handful of stakes. At least now, they knew how to stop these things. And, if she was lucky, they would find out more about what these things were and who had sent them.  
  
With the help of her computer, Ami used the stakes and the twine to divide the former golem into twenty-one half-meter by half-meter squares. Square by square, she dug through the remains, sifting first through the strainer, then through the cheesecloth into the largest tubs. Anything that looked interesting was put into one of the smaller containers and labeled with the number of its square. It was slow, tedious work. Scoop, pour, sift, look. Pour, sift, look. Over, and over, and over. There was something comforting about the rhythm of the work, and although she was impatient at first, she eventually found herself existing in the moment, happy to be doing something constructive. Something important. Occasionally, she would find a fragment of stone, or plant, or metal that might have some significance, and that only spurred her on to search more thoroughly. Although alone, she didn't feel lonely, and she could almost imagine that there were other people elsewhere on the site, working as with as much concentration as she was.  
  
She hit pay-dirt, so to speak, in square fifteen. Four shards of crystals winked up at her from the strainer. She picked up one of the smallest containers—something originally meant for condiments, perhaps—and tilted the strainer. The four shards were a faint, but unmistakable blue.  
  
Holding back her excitement, she simply labeled the container, put it aside, and moved on to square sixteen. She then stopped, and walked back to her evidence pile, wondering if she had seen correctly. She then stepped back, then forward again. No, she hadn't been mistaken. The shards were definitely reacting to her presence. Every time she drew near them, they turned a faint, clear blue. When she held her hand directly over them, they became less faint, and each one took on its own tint. One was greenish, one was dark, one was dull, and one was more purple than blue.  
  
"How very odd... What do you think, Ikarus?" She turned to look over her shoulder, only to yelp in pain as she looked straight into the blazing sun.  
  
Shaking uncontrollably, Ami staggered over to the twine grid and started yanking up stakes. Enough was enough. She bundled the twine together, not caring that it was becoming tangled. Why did she think the old Shaper of her lost childhood was standing there? What on earth was going on? She shoved the labeled containers into her tote bag, then crammed everything else into the two large tubs. She remembered how easily she had fallen into her work, and how her mind had wandered. When she wasn't paying attention, had she somehow reverted to Egeria? Her stomach started churning, and she regretted the cup of coffee she'd had at the arcade.  
  
Rather than hauling the two bins to Haruka and Michiru's house, she simply chucked them into one of the dumpsters on the site, where they would get lost among the rest of the debris. She then shuffled her feet over Hotaru's bloodstains, and kicked the dirt around. You didn't need a magical computer to recognize blood, she thought. There was no point in leaving anything around to arouse suspicion.  
  
Maybe it was just a rare case of absent-mindedness, thought Ami, but if there was the barest chance that these dreams were starting to spill over into waking life, she would find the answer and find it fast! Even if it meant staying up all night.  
  
Even if it meant skipping school. Or not. She'd just have to wait and see.  
  
  
  
3:18 p.m.  
  
What a day, thought Usagi. She'd just managed to squeak by with a passing grade on two of her tests. Two of her friends were in detention, and another had been sent home with a nasty and potentially contagious rash. She didn't feel like waiting around for Minako and Mako-chan, so she went to find Luna. The cat said she'd be in the old cherry tree at the edge of campus. Now that it looked like another enemy might be raising its proverbially (and literally) ugly head, the little black cat was acting more like a mother hen.  
  
Since she had a half-hour to kill before heading to Rei's, she wondered if she should try to see how Mamo-chan was doing. Usagi knew his course and exam schedule better than he did, so unless something had come up, or he was studying at the library, he should be at home.  
  
Despite the warmth of the day, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Mamo-chan was usually so laid-back and calm about everything, but on the phone yesterday he had sounded as flustered as when she and ChibiUsa would get into one of their little spats over him. But then, at the shrine, he acted as if he was bored by everything. When they showed him the pictures of Rosamund, everyone yammering and exclaiming and pointing at once, he had only shrugged.  
  
Thinking about what Mamo-chan did say, Usagi snickered. Poor ChibiUsa was really starting to resent her pink-haired 'grandmother.' Ahhh, she'd have to remember to remind poor Mamo-chan that girly pink ran on his side of the family, and moan about how unfair it was that such a pretty color had skipped a generation. She'd have to make sure they had a good audience for that one. There wasn't too much she could tease him about, but these dreams of hers had unearthed a gold mine. She'd have to pump Setsuna for some more information about Lady Rosamund. Or maybe she should just hint to Mamo-chan that Setsuna had promised to tell them some cute—and embarrassing—stories about his childhood.  
  
Usagi sat down under the tree where Luna should be waiting. A group of girls from the softball team was hanging around nearby, so she couldn't talk to the cat. She blew her bangs out of her eyes. If it weren't for Hotaru's encounter with the golem, these dreams could almost be enjoyable.  
  
When she thought about her past life, Usagi often felt like she'd been given only three random volumes out of an eighteen-volume manga series, only to be told that the remaining fifteen volumes were out of print. Although it would be nice to know the whole story, it wasn't all that important, really. The love that her prior self had for Prince Endymion was reborn in her love for Mamo-chan. She had her dearest friends and protectors around her. That was all she really needed to know about the past.  
  
Whenever she thought about the fall of the Moon Kingdom, her heart felt as if it would be rent in two. It was sad, yes, but over the years, the images had changed in her mind. Now, she saw Mamo-chan falling to Beryl's sword. She thought of Haruka and Michiru, alone and lonely, without the comfort of the love they had in this life, watching helplessly from afar. She saw Rei, and Ami, and Minako, and Mako-chan lying in their own blood on the steps of the palace, and her mother at the head of the stairs, wailing in anguish and pulling at her wavy purple hair, her daughter's life-blood smeared across her yellow apron.  
  
Never again, she thought. That scene would never play out in that way. They had defeated Metallia, Beryl, and their minions, and they would stay defeated. The past was in the past, and so was the pain.  
  
And as for the future...  
  
Better, perhaps, to dwell on the now. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the warm breeze on her face and the comforting roughness of the tree against her back. She could hear the laughter of the nearby girls. It was hearty, boisterous laughter—congratulating themselves on a future victory, rather than giggling about potential boyfriends. Was it too late for her to participate in a sport? wondered Usagi. Now that her teenage growth spurt had slowed down, everyone was telling her that she was a lot less clumsy. Even so, gymnastics was out. So was anything involving a ball, since her head still functioned as a magnet. Track, maybe? She opened her eyes to look at the players, who had stopped talking and were heading down towards the softball field.  
  
The coast was clear. Usagi looked up into the tree and called out, "Hi, L—Artemis?"  
  
"Hey, Usagi-chan." The white cat hopped down to land on Usagi's shoulder. "Where's Minako?"  
  
Usagi rolled her eyes. "Detention. So's Mako-chan. They were late to home room."  
  
"Huh. That's weird. Minako got out of the house in plenty of time—for once."  
  
"She and Mako-chan were out talking in the hallway, trying to plan another 'girls night out.' Where's Luna? No offense or anything, but I was kind of surprised to see you here."  
  
"She's at Central Control. I swapped shifts with her so she could spend more time with ChibiUsa and Diana tonight. Speaking of which, would you mind swinging by the arcade on your way home, so I can relieve her? 'Girls night out,' eh?" The cat's tail lashed against Usagi's neck. It tickled. "I wish they'd stop that nonsense."  
  
"Oh, don't be such a nag, Artemis! They're just having fun. You know it doesn't hurt anything."  
  
"You mean it hasn't hurt anything—yet," the cat growled. "She's incorrigible."  
  
Usagi smirked. "Are you saying I shouldn't incorrige her, then?" Actually, given everything that was going on, especially in light of the incident with the golem, she was glad that Mako-chan and V-babe were going out on the town. Still, she hoped that the evening turned out to be a bust.  
  
The two remained quiet for a while as another gaggle of students rushed towards the school gates.  
  
"Yo! Usagi-san! You bleach your cat or something?" called out one of the boys from her class.  
  
"Silly! This is Minako's cat. We traded!" Usagi laughed. She saw Naru-chan on the other side of the crowd, and waved. Naru waved back and hurried off. At first, Usagi wondered if something was wrong, then remembered that it was Tuesday. Cram school. Thank goodness her own parents weren't pushing her that hard.  
  
"Bleach. Yeah, right," snarled Artemis. "At least I don't go through a gallon of hair-gel every day. Punk."  
  
"It might help with the shedding…no claws! no claws! Jeez, Arty. It was only a joke!"  
  
The cat relaxed, and the prickle-points of pain disappeared. "Sorry. It's just that this is a bad time of year, fur-wise. Minako's mother has been complaining about it a lot lately. It's got us both pretty edgy. I'm hoping that if I just stay in Minako's room, that the current anti-cat sentiment will blow over."  
  
"Well if things get bad, you can always move in with us. Do you want to wait for Minako?" Usagi asked. "They'll only be about another twenty minutes or so." Of course that would mean she wouldn't have time to check on Mamo-chan…  
  
"Actually, this works out. I need to talk to you." Usagi stood up, and shifted Artemis so that she was supporting his rear in the crook of her arm. His forelegs rested on Usagi's shoulder. This way, Usagi could look in front, and Artemis to the back to see if anyone might notice that a cat was talking. The shoulder-carry also put them neatly mouth to ear so that they could talk softly and not draw any attention to themselves.  
  
"Is something wrong with Minako-chan?" whispered Usagi.  
  
"Wha? Huh? Oh, no no no. Everything's fine with her. Fine. Just fine. Really," Artemis babbled. "No, it's not Minako I'm worried about. I wanted to talk to you about Mamoru-kun."  
  
"Muffin? How come?"  
  
She felt Artemis's sides heave in a deep sigh. "The thing with his parents. The fact that they might have been murdered."  
  
"Murdered!" Usagi looked around to make sure no one had heard her outburst. "He never said that! He only said that the detectives were looking into some suspicious circumstances surrounding their deaths. He made it sound like it was mostly about the orphanages and the cover-up and the money and so on."  
  
"I know, I know. And I didn't want to say anything right then and there, but Detective Seidou was pretty clear about the fact that she thought someone had tampered with the car." The cat paused, took a breath, and continued precisely and firmly. "She asked him point blank if he knew if anyone wanted his parents dead."  
  
Usagi walked on in silence. She felt cold. Her vision glimmered, but she was not going to blink and allow the tears to fall. The sign for the Crown Arcade was a blurry red line at the end of the next block.  
  
"Why?" she finally asked. She could only let out one word. Any more, and she would start crying.  
  
"For what it's worth, Usagi-chan, I don't think he meant to lie to you."  
  
"Doesn't he know that it only makes it worse when he tries to protect me from these things?" she finally said, sobbing softly and hating herself for it. "I know he's hurting, I know he's sad inside, but he won't let me see. He won't let me in to help!"  
  
Artemis turned his head and licked the tears from her face. At first, this only made Usagi cry harder, but then the scratchy tongue began to tickle.  
  
"That's enough, Arty," she laughed. "I'll be okay. It still hurts, but I'll be okay."  
  
"I know." She could see his whiskers flick forward as he cocked his head in a cat smile. "You're strong enough to know when you do hurt." His voice grew serious again, and his ears tilted to the side. "I'm afraid, however, that Mamoru isn't very strong in that way."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"It's not just you he's shutting out, and if it helps any, I don't think it's deliberate. You know how he's always so calm about everything?"  
  
Usagi nodded. She'd been thinking much the same thing not long ago.  
  
"When the detectives were talking to him, he sounded like everything was just fine. Confused and in shock, but fine. After they left, I tried to get him to talk about it. He kept insisting that he was 'fine,' and that the case couldn't possibly have anything to do with anything else that's going on. I finally got him to admit that he was a little shaken up, but I've got a feeling that was only so I'd stop nagging him. He didn't say a darn thing about how he wished he'd known his parents, or who could have done this, or anything. I swear, that if I hadn't been there, he would have convinced himself that the whole thing had never happened."  
  
"I don't get it. Why wouldn't he want to know what happened to them? He always used to say that he wished he could remember his family. What changed?"  
  
They were almost at the arcade. They passed by a few people on the sidewalk, and Artemis had to wait until they were at the door before he could finish.  
  
"He was shocked when the detectives told him why they were there. Genuinely shocked. Granted, that sort of thing would knock anyone off-kilter."  
  
Usagi paused with her hand on the door. "But it's more than just that, isn't it, Artemis?"  
  
"Yeah. It turns out that Seidou was lead investigator when the crash happened—another unhappy coincidence to add to our growing list. When she started going over the details to see if she could jog his memory, Mamoru…" He paused, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He was obviously trying to think of how to explain this. "The problem is, you all don't notice smells the way Luna and I do. If you were just looking and listening, you could tell Mamoru was startled, and in shock, but that's it. The smell, on the other hand…"  
  
Artemis turned to look Usagi straight in the eye. "He was terrified. That's the only way I can put it. Stone cold terrified. It was just for a minute or two, but he literally stank of fear."  
  
"Mamo-chan? No way!" The only time she'd ever seen him even remotely scared was when he was worried about her or ChibiUsa. She went ahead and walked into the arcade.  
  
"The nose doesn't lie. Something had him absolutely shit-scared, pardon my French, and the weird thing is, I don't even think he knew himself. It was like his body knew there was some horrible threat, but his brain didn't have a clue."  
  
  
  
9:48 p.m.  
  
The two girls were cruising along the streets of downtown Tokyo.  
  
Well, sort of along the streets.  
  
Roughly parallel to the streets, at any rate.  
  
The fact that they were currently five stories above sidewalk level was only a minor technicality in the broader scheme of things.  
  
The nice thing about running along rooftops, thought Sailor Venus, was that except for the occasional pigeon, pedestrian traffic was usually pretty light.  
  
"V, they're looking at us!" hissed Sailor Jupiter.  
  
"So let 'em look!" called Sailor Venus. "The good people of Tokyo should know that the Sailor Senshi are looking out for their well-being and providing plenty of exciting photo opportunities!"  
  
Venus sprinted along the rooftops, taking each city block in four powerful strides. God, she loved this! She measured her pace, pushed easily off the eaves of the building to arc gracefully over the four-lane street below. The gasps of the pedestrians carried up to her ears, and she skidded to a stop as she landed, turned, went to the edge of the building, and executed a neat bow. Sailor Jupiter touched down beside her as the crowd below burst into applause.  
  
"You are such a whore," muttered Jupiter, shaking with suppressed laughter.  
  
Venus simply blew a kiss to the crowd below, then the two Senshi continued on their way. "Don't be a nag," she said. "Artemis does enough nagging for two, already. It's been too long since we've done this. I've missed it."  
  
She knew she shouldn't show off quite so much, but it had been a while, and besides, it was always fun to get Jupiter's sheep. The trick was knowing when to stop before Jupiter got cranky for real.  
  
They came to a series of industrial parks, and the terrain changed. The two Senshi leapt down to the ground, and ran through straight-aways, vaulted over boxcars, and zigzagged around cranes and backhoes. Even if they didn't run into any of these Gollums, thought Venus, it was still good to get out. Although it was dark, her Senshi vision let her see the fallen pipes and conduits. She could feel the burst of power as she jumped over a partially- erected steel frame, flipping as she did so. The Senshi couldn't fly, but this came pretty damned close.  
  
Jupiter let out a loud war-whoop as she hurdled over a pyramid of concrete pipes. The gems on her bow and tiara threw off sparks of green. "This was a great idea, V-babe! It has been too long!"  
  
"Remember the last time?" asked Venus.  
  
"How could I forget!" Jupiter's deep belly-laugh was contagious, and seemed to rise up from the earth itself.  
  
It had been amazing. A spring storm was coming in off of the Bay, and as it lumbered closer and closer to the city center, Jupiter started acting goofier and goofier, giggling wildly and doing triple flips as she leapt from roof to roof. Eventually, they wound up in Ueno Park. The rain was coming in almost horizontally, and they had the entire park to themselves. When the storm was directly overhead, the lightning was unleashed, and bolt after bolt slammed down into the center of the park. Jupiter ran around an open field like a lunatic, dodging lightning strikes like a matador in the bull-ring and roaring her challenge to the skies, daring them to give her their worst, she'd give them back just as good, if not more.  
  
Venus, in a rare moment of prudence, started to run for shelter. Being a Senshi of a metallic nature was not a healthy thing in the middle of a lightning storm. But then the mood of the storm changed. The lightning acknowledged its mistress. Jupiter grabbed Venus's hands and swung her into a rough and giddy dance, like something out of an old country reel, and the two of them spun in circles through the field, first leading, then following the lightning as it beat against the earth in its joyful, percussive rhythm.  
  
Then, almost as soon as it started, the storm and the mood faded, and drifted off, leaving two drenched and exhausted Senshi to trudge home through the puddles and the mud.  
  
Venus shook her head in mock disbelief. "For a while there, I thought we were going to end up as Sailor Charcoal Briquette and Sailor Crispy. You have some weird powers, girl. I mean, storm powers and tree powers? What's up with that?"  
  
Jupiter fake-punched Venus in the stomach. "Same thing that's up with love and chains, dummy."  
  
Venus stared bug-eyed at Jupiter. Jupiter looked puzzled for a moment, then doubled over laughing.  
  
"Some…someone…whoo, boy! Someone back in the Silver Millennium had a dirty mind!"  
  
Venus shook her fist, and a ghost-chain briefly shimmered in the darkness. "I'll have you know that this chain was forged by Haephestus himself…Sparky." She sniffed, trying not to giggle as she looked offended. "Besides, Kinsei—Venus—is the 'star of metal,' so get your mind out of the shingles!"  
  
"Gutter. And who's Hugh Hefner, or whoever it is? The guy who made your chains? I've never heard you mention him before."  
  
Venus was about to respond to Jupiter's correction with her usual "whatever," but the follow-up question took her by surprise. What exactly had she said about her chain? The remark about what's-his-name came out of her mouth naturally, the way her credo of love and justice always had, or the way the names of her attacks just burst into her mind when she needed them. "I dunno. Just some guy who made things, I guess."  
  
"Well, Jupiter is Mokusei, the Wood Star, so no fair making fun of my attacks, Miss Whips-n-chains. Plus, y'know, Oak Evolution." Jupiter circled one hand in the air. "Oak being associated with thunder and all."  
  
"But what about Coconut Cyclone? I'm sorry, but that's just silly. It always makes me think of something that gets served with a miniature umbrella and a maraschino cherry."  
  
"Really? It reminds me of chocolate-coconut cake with whipped cream frosting. Oh, and what about the Love-Me-Chain? I don't care who forged it, there's no way that doesn't sound totally perverted." Jupiter was quiet for a moment, then erupted in hysterical laughter.  
  
"It's not that funny."  
  
Jupiter clutched her stomach as she tried to stop laughing. "It…it's not that, dummy. I was just thinking that it could be worse. Think about poor Taiki."  
  
Taiki? Sailor StarMaker? Oh, yes. Star Gentle…  
  
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"  
  
Oh, it could be worse. Much, much worse. And how much worse if you were a guy half of the time.  
  
"I don't even wanna think about some of his…her power-up attacks."  
  
Even though they were both convulsing with laughter, they could still hear the brief, distant scream.  
  
Barely thinking about it, Venus dashed towards the sound of the scream. It had lasted less than a second, but it came from over this way...towards a group of warehouses. Jupiter came up close behind her, but Venus only flicked her hand in recognition. One leap took her to the roof of a three- story warehouse. Jupiter landed right beside her—a little too loudly, in Venus's estimation.  
  
"Is it a golem? A youma?" Jupiter whispered.  
  
Venus held up her hand to silence the other Senshi. She walked slowly towards the edge of the roof. She could see the lights of one of the main streets just a few blocks up. A low rumble of men's voices followed by shrill, hysterical whispering told her what was going on.  
  
"Muggers," she hissed. "Keep low. I don't want them to see us."  
  
They crept to the edge of the building. A low parapet allowed them to peer down unseen into the alley below.  
  
Directly below them, a well dressed, middle-aged couple huddled together, offering to give the muggers anything they wanted, camera, car keys, jewelry, anything. On the far side of the alley, two men—one with a switchblade—were closing in on the couple. Venus's eyes narrowed. They just weren't after jewelry and money. They had the look of men who didn't want to leave any witnesses.  
  
"So," she whispered to Jupiter, "Speeches or no speeches?"  
  
Jupiter cracked her knuckles. The grin on her face told Venus that she was looking forward to thing going 'wham' and 'crunch.' "Nah," she said. "Let's just put the frighteners on them."  
  
Venus tensed. "Okay. On three, then."  
  
The robbers had expected an easy mark. What they got, however were two angry, screaming Sailor Senshi falling from the heavens. One carried a chain like a sharp, golden whip. The other's fists and eyes crackled with electricity and the promise of a thorough pummeling.  
  
The smarter of the two attackers started to run, but Venus lashed out with her chain, catching him around the ankles. He fell to the ground, semi- conscious.  
  
The other robber, the one with the knife, took one look at Jupiter and leered. The Sailor Senshi were just girls, he clearly thought, and he knew how to deal with little girls who didn't know their place.  
  
One well-placed uppercut cured him of that notion, and he fairly flew into a dumpster, leaving a faint trail of sparks in the air.  
  
While Jupiter checked to make sure that the robbers were still breathing, Venus quickly contacted the police on her communicator. They then turned to the formerly-in-distress couple.  
  
It turned out that the two of them were okay, despite the recent scare. They gave their names as Ichiro and Sayuri Nobu. They were here on vacation from Kobe, they said, and had never expected to meet two real, live Sailor Senshi! Mrs. Nobu shyly brought out her travel diary and asked if Venus and Jupiter would mind giving them an autograph. Her grand-daughter, she said, would be ever so grateful.  
  
Of course they didn't mind, said Venus, elbowing Jupiter sharply in the ribs. Jupiter signed graciously, and Venus accompanied her signature with a doodle of Sailor V giving a 'V for Victory' sign. They then agreed to pose for a photograph with the beaming Mr. Nobu. Jupiter was even getting into the spirit of things and put her arm around Nobu-san's shoulders for the photo.  
  
They hung around for a few minutes as the Nobus continued to thank them and gush over how wonderful and sweet they were.  
  
"I hear the police coming," said Jupiter, "so we'd better get going. Enjoy the rest of your vacation!" she called as she leapt back up to the roof of the warehouse.  
  
Venus waved goodbye, then followed Jupiter back up to the rooftops, her legs lofting her skywards in an ecstatic, effortless leap.  
  
For just that one moment, as she basked in the fading battle-glow and danced along the Tokyo skyline, Sailor Venus could not have named a single thing about her life that she would want to change.  
  
  
  
Wednesday, July 4  
  
1:02 a.m.  
  
Ami fought back another yawn. It had taken a while, but her computer finally finished analyzing the four shards of crystal. If the data could be trusted, then these four little pieces of crystal were similar in structure to both the Ginzuishou and to Mamoru's Kinzuishou. The biggest difference was that the small crystals were completely inert. They had no intrinsic energy. All they did was turn different shades of blue when she drew near them.  
  
She held her hand as close as she dared while the computer took a spectroscopic reading of the colors. Later, she wanted to see what would happen if she actually touched them, or if they would react any differently to her as Sailor Mercury. This was not, however, something she wanted to try on her own or in her mother's apartment.  
  
While the computer sorted through the color analysis, Ami looked back through the notes she'd taken of her own dreams and last night's meeting. Odd that they had all dreamed in different ways. She was thankful that her own dreams were linear—she'd go nuts if she had to deal with the sort of jumble Rei had experienced, or sort out the past from everyday life as in Minako's. Usagi, it seemed, had only seen rather static images or had remembered being a small child in her mother's arms. The winged serpent, Delphine, had obviously made quite an impression, but oddly, Usagi said that she could barely remember Hyperion, the man who had been young Serenity's father.  
  
She wrote a reminder to herself to ask Rei if she thought her visions might have gotten scrambled due to her natural precognitive abilities. Ami yawned again and rubbed at her eyes. They did feel rather dry. Oh, well. Earlier resolve aside, she did have school tomorrow, and if she didn't get at least a few hours sleep, Nurse Cheerful would no doubt be after her with smiles and lollipops.  
  
Ami programmed her computer to wake her should it detect any unusual energy spikes in the area, then stripped off her clothes and put on her nightgown. Although it would feel wonderful, she elected to skip her nightly soak in exchange for the extra sleep.  
  
She fell asleep quickly, and was not terribly surprised to find herself dreaming again. This time, she was walking quickly along a cloister that ringed a small formal garden. Egeria—if that's who it was—was shivering, although Ami found the weather to be pleasant and mild. The girl was wearing a long, pale blue dress with long sleeves. It might have been made of wool, but it wasn't that scratchy.  
  
Of course, Ami thought. She'd be used to the heat of Mercury. Egeria's body felt larger, and older. Obviously some time had passed since the events of her last dream. Egeria hurried along the walkway, opened a door set into the white marble walls, and entered an enclosed hallway that was nonetheless light and airy.  
  
There were no hard shadows in this place, Ami noticed. Where on earth was the light coming from? She wished that Egeria would slow down so that she could take a look around.  
  
Egeria did slow down when someone called her name. She turned around, and Ami got the shock of her life when she saw who it was.  
  
"Harmonia!" Egeria exclaimed. "When did you get back from Mars?"  
  
It was Rei, but not Rei. Her dream-self gawped as she looked at the other girl. Harmonia, who Ami somehow knew was the alter-ego of Sailor Mars, could have been mistaken for her friend, but not by anyone who knew Rei well. The face was longer, and the features less delicate. The deep-set eyes were a warm brown rather than the familiar dark violet. The two girls' builds were the same, but Harmonia had an air of sinewy strength instead of Rei's effortless grace.  
  
"An hour ago." The serious look on the other girl's face would not have looked at all unusual to Ami, but Egeria was clearly agitated. "The oracle stones indicated trouble...with Earth, if you can believe it."  
  
"Did they say what kind of trouble?"  
  
Harmonia shook her head. "No. I kept getting conflicting readings. They all indicated some sort of trouble. The center was always on Earth, but the primal cause kept shifting."  
  
Egeria bit at her thumbnail. With her hand so close to her face, Ami could notice that her fingers appeared to have some sort of webbing. She only wished that there was someway she could tell her former self and Rei's former self what the problem was. Endymion's generals would lead Earth's forces against them. Beryl had brainwashed the four men, and Metallia was the force behind Beryl. Going back even further, Metallia owed her power to Chaos. No wonder Rei...Harmonia was having trouble pinning down the source of the coming trouble.  
  
"Have you told the Princess?"  
  
Harmonia's laugh was more like a bark. "And cause a panic? No, I told Kytheria. She'll be Serenity's shadow and make sure that she doesn't try to slip off to Earth again."  
  
Kytheria. That would be either Venus or Jupiter, most likely.  
  
"Really?" said Egeria. "You don't think that she'd be anxious to look after the health of a certain white-haired general?"  
  
Venus, then.  
  
Harmonia's face fell and her eyes seemed to glimmer. Egeria murmured something apologetic and reached out a hand and laid it on the other girl's shoulder. Yep, those are definitely webbed, thought Ami. I guess Lady Nerissa wasn't human, just as I suspected.  
  
"Ah, don't worry about it, Egeria. Really, the two of us only met a short while ago. I was beginning to think there was something there, but I haven't heard from him in nearly a week." Harmonia looked up and winked at Egeria, a very un-Rei like expression on her face. "But I wouldn't complain if you put in a kind word with your love."  
  
Excuse me? Could you repeat that?  
  
"I was just on my way to see him...on business," she added, with emphasis. "I'll see if he's heard from his brother." Egeria stopped to think, and again started chewing on her thumbnail. Odd how certain habits could survive over the millennia and across lives, thought Ami.  
  
"What is it?" asked Harmonia.  
  
"Now that you mention it...I sent Cerelia some information about the forestry failures on Callisto. It shouldn't have happened, not with its soil composition. It also looked like the nitrogen cycle had established itself, and the oak varietals were showing greater than expected growth in the first year. The carbon dioxide in the atmosphere..." Seeing the glazed look on Harmonia's face, Egeria brought her musings to a halt. "Anyway, I would have expected to hear from Cerelia by now. It's been over a week, and I haven't heard a peep."  
  
Callisto was one of Jupiter's moons. But who or what was Cerelia? It seemed that every time one of her questions got answered, it ushered another one through the door.  
  
"I was on my way to tell the Queen herself," Harmonia said. "Should I tell her that you haven't heard from Earth, either?"  
  
Egeria nodded. "There's something else, isn't there, Harm?"  
  
Harmonia clenched her jaw. "I hope I'm wrong in my interpretations, but the stones indicated that Saturn may become involved."  
  
"Lady Kaia is the king's cousin, Harm. If there's trouble with Earth, it's only natural that Saturn would get involved. If the Glaive-bearer were to awaken, don't you think that the oracle stones would give you more than just an indication?"  
  
"Maybe... Anyhow, I'd better go request an audience with the Queen. She may have a better idea of what's going on." Harmonia gave Egeria a wicked look. "You'd better go about your...business."  
  
"He's probably getting rather impatient," Egeria said. "But before we get down to...business, I'll be sure to inquire after the health of your Lord Jadeite."  
  
"He's hardly mine yet, but thanks!"  
  
The two girls went their separate ways. Well, well, well, thought Ami. She'd always suspected some sort of connection between Sailor Mars and Jadeite, but who would have imagined it would be this? She wondered if Rei had any suspicion. Certainly Minako and Makoto didn't, or they'd never hear and end to the teasing. She probably shouldn't tell Rei anything about it. After all, the current Fire Senshi seemed to have limited tolerance for men at best, and knowing that she'd been infatuated with one of their first enemies would probably not be the sort of thing she'd like to hear.  
  
Egeria headed on down the hallway, eagerness carrying her faster and faster. She eventually reached a double door that was inscribed with writing that was half symbol, half picture. The door opened to Egeria's touch, and she walked in. A blond man, clad in a linen tunic and wearing Roman-style sandals was bent over a malachite and zebrawood drafting table. An array of writing instruments hovered obediently at his side. He turned when he heard Egeria come in, and his blue eyes were merry with delight and mischief.  
  
He looked barely a few years older than when Ami had first seen him. Egeria crossed the room and into the man's arms. Once small enough to be carried in those same arms, she was now able to lean her head into his shoulder. Only Ami noticed the sound as the Shaper's concentration lapsed and the pens and pencils clattered to the ground. He reached up to cup Egeria's cheek in his palm, and he turned her face towards him.  
  
"How is my little water-rat today?" he murmured.  
  
"Wonderful, now that I'm here with you," she replied, tilting her head to accept his kiss. She moaned as his hand trailed down her spine, and she deepened the kiss, wrapping one hand behind his neck to pull him closer to her even as she pressed up against his body. His hand came to rest heavy and warm on the small of her back, while his other hand left her cheek and began to trace along the neckline of her dress. This was nice. This was very nice...  
  
Ami sat bolt upright in bed. Her face felt like it was on fire.  
  
Ikarus and Egeria...  
  
...were lovers?  
  
  
  
9:45 a.m.  
  
Tuesday had been a waste of a day. Jason had gone with Seidou as she toured several orphanages and interviewed social workers who were involved in placing children in foster care, trying to find where Chiba had spent his first years as an orphan. Seidou had been adamant about checking even the most unlikely possibilities.  
  
"A girl's orphanage?"  
  
"No better hiding place, if you're trying to stash away a little boy. Hell, it worked for Achilles, didn't it? At least until what's-his-face showed up with a load of goods and the girls went all ga-ga over the jewelry and fine silks. Achilles went right for the swords and armor and the jig was up. Classic example of testosterone poisoning, if you ask me."  
  
Classical mythology and stereotypical male behavior aside, the girl's orphanage turned up nothing but a couple of young teens who flirted outrageously with Jason, much to Seidou's amusement.  
  
Anyway, the day had turned up nothing. A blank. A big zero. Seidou's expression was so black and stormy when they returned to the station, that even a couple of members of the riot police had shrunk against the walls of the hall as they passed.  
  
When Jason and Keisuke arrived at the station the next morning, Harada told them that Seidou had to speak to the attorneys involved in a case of hers that was going to trial on Thursday. From the sweat still beading the shift commander's forehead, Jason could make an educated guess as to how Seidou had reacted to the sudden change in her schedule.  
  
"Well, Wright-san," said Keisuke, "how would you like to take a look at the crime scene? Then, there's something I found in the photos of the crime scene that I'd like to get your opinion on."  
  
After one look at the stacks of files and computer printouts covering the two desks, Jason said he thought that sounded like an excellent idea.  
  
Twenty minutes later, the two detectives were heading north along the seacoast highway. The ocean was to their right. On the driver's side, Keisuke had to shield his eyes from the morning sun beaming in. Jason sat in the passenger side, but felt like there should be a steering wheel in front of him. He wished he could drive this stretch of road, not just because the twists and turns looked like fun, but so he could get a better idea of the family's last few minutes on this earth. Unfortunately, Keisuke refused to risk one of the department's cars to a foreigner who wasn't used to driving on the proper side of the road.  
  
Keisuke pointed out the turnoff to the scenic overlook. "We'll pull in there later so we can see where they pulled the car out of the water. First, though, we're going to go a few miles further south, then turn around so we can see the approach."  
  
Jason noticed the plural pronoun. "So this is your first time to see this, Takamori-san?"  
  
"Sort of. I've been through here plenty of times, but not as a detective. The scenery doesn't have quite the same quality under these circumstances," he said lightly. "If you wouldn't mind, please don't tell Akiko where we went today—this is one of her favorite drives, and I'd hate to spoil it for her, you understand?"  
  
"Do I ever," said Jason. "Mom knows I work Homicide, but her idea of murder is something you'd find in an Agatha Christie novel."  
  
"Elaborate poisons, hidden wills, inexplicably locked doors, and upper- crust house parties, right?" Keisuke kept his eyes on the road, and maintained their speed at an even 80 k.p.h., even through the curves and dips. He didn't even have to look at the tachometer, shifting at exactly the right time either by feel or by the sound of the car's engine.  
  
"Right. She doesn't want or need to know about the other stuff."  
  
Jason often teased his mother about her taste in books. Her bookshelves were filled with genteel little paperback mysteries that she was always picking up at flea markets and yard sales. None of the books was any longer than 250 pages, and each one seemed to be part of one never-ending series or another. Each series was organized around a theme such as cooking, antique collecting, Egyptology, even the professional dog-show circuit. The police were portrayed as amiable clods, and the perky amateur detectives—who hadn't aged since 1970—always managed to find some way to use their specialized knowledge to solve the crime. Jason thought of them as Harlequin romances, but with more death and fewer juicy bits.  
  
"In fact," he continued, "whenever she picks up a new mystery novel, she'll get about 20 pages into it and then flip to the end."  
  
"Doesn't that ruin the surprise?"  
  
"She claims she forgets what happens, but who knows. The reason she looks ahead is that she won't read any books where pets or children get killed off."  
  
Keisuke shook his head. "I wish I could be that choosy. About a month ago Seidou and I went to a crime scene—the case she's giving a deposition on right now, in fact—where this old woman had been killed."  
  
"Her grandson, right?"  
  
"Right. It was bad enough that he killed his own grandmother, but he also wrung her cat's neck, just out of spite, as far as I can tell."  
  
Jason shivered. It was only a cat, but still... Looking another living creature in the eyes, putting your hands around her throat, and watching as the eyes went glassy and dark? He wasn't even sure he could bring himself to kill someone who deserved it, even in self defense. "You have the right to remain silent," he thought, replaying Mike Kellerman's words in his mind. It was over three years later, and he could still hear that gunshot ringing through his dreams and his memories.  
  
"What was that?" asked Keisuke.  
  
"Huh?" He didn't realize he'd spoken Kellerman's words out loud. "Oh...something you said just reminded me of a case I was on when I first started working Homicide."  
  
Unlike Meldrick Lewis, Keisuke Takamori was able to judge when Jason didn't want to talk about something. Jason was glad that he was bunking with the Takamori family, and not with the irascible Seidou. Living with the Takamoris was almost like being home—not his house, but home as it was for him during high-school, with his siblings always running in and out, yelled conversations between one person in the upstairs bathroom and someone else in the basement, between someone in the alley and someone in the living room, and his mom screeching at them to for God's sake shut up and let her have some peace before they hauled her off to the booby-hatch. When the Wright horde was young, their dad had read to them from Thurber's Fables for Our Time. None of the younger kids remembered any of the subversive little tales, but whenever their mother started her usual litany against the chaos that ruled her home, Jake or Jason would invariably call out "Hey, Ma! Don't count your boobies until they're hatched!" and try to avoid being whapped in the back of the head with a mildewed dishtowel.  
  
"I take it this was a funny case, or did I miss something?" asked Keisuke.  
  
"Nah, I've just got a bad case of wandering mind today," said Jason. "For some reason I've been feeling a little bit homesick. No, I'm having a wonderful time—you and Akiko have been great," he said, when Keisuke started to apologize. He should have remembered that complaining in front of one's host in Japan wasn't a great idea. "It's fun to be with a large family again."  
  
"Ah," said Keisuke, nodding his understanding. "Well, I'm glad we can give you a taste of home. Do you want to turn around now, or go up another few miles?"  
  
"Let's go up just a little bit further," said Jason. "There's something about this cut brake-line that's been bothering me." He looked through the packet of papers that Keisuke had brought along with them. The victims' car was a 1984 Honda, a mini-wagon with all the options available at the time, and only a couple of years old when it went over the cliff. Automatic transmission, power brakes, and so on. Keisuke confirmed that it for a young couple, it could have been something of a financial stretch. It wasn't as flashy as, say, a Volvo, but that particular make and model was one of the nicer domestics of its day. Unfortunately, it was also one of the most popular as well.  
  
"Seidou-san's got inquiries in to all the garages and mechanics in the area, just in case any of them remember the car or its owners," Keisuke said, "but we're not counting on anything."  
  
"Nothing came up back in '87?"  
  
Keisuke shook his head. "She only had about a week, remember? She did put in a request for all registrations for owners of that make, model, and year. I've got the records back at the office."  
  
The pause was significant enough for Jason to get the hint. "I'll help you go through them when we go back," he said.  
  
Keisuke smiled serenely. He pulled into a gas station, and waved off the attendant, flashing his badge when the man frowned at them. "So, Wright- san. Do you trust me?"  
  
"Trust you how? That's a loaded question."  
  
Keisuke laughed. "I mean, do you trust my driving? I want to take the drive back to the overlook at a....greater than prudent speed, shall we say."  
  
"Fine by me," said Jason. "One of my brothers does some amateur racing. Just don't get insulted if I grab onto the door handle."  
  
The normally sedate Keisuke peeled out of the gas-station lot and swerved right into the sea-side lane of the highway, taking Jason so close to the guard rail that he gasped in surprise.  
  
"It's really not that bad," Keisuke shouted over the roar of the engine. "There's a decent straightaway before each curve." He braked and downshifted at the next curve, squealing the tires only slightly. "Keep your eyes open, Wright-san. The crime scene is just another three curves from here."  
  
Keisuke had them going nearly 100 k.p.h—about sixty miles per hour, if Jason had the numbers right. "So what were the conditions that night?" he yelled. He gripped the panic-handle over the door, not even bothering to conceal his nervousness. The guardrail would probably bounce the compact back into the road if they hit it, but the ground on the other side dropped off so steeply that it was small comfort.  
  
"Dry and clear," said Keisuke. "Plus, the crash happened at about six or so. In August there would still be plenty of daylight."  
  
Since the south-bound run took them mostly downhill, Keisuke was applying brakes as well as downshifting at each bend in the road. The car that Chiba's parents had been driving was an automatic. They would have had to rely on brake-power alone to slow their descent. He kept his eye on the road, trying to think himself through the driving process. Steep grade: ride on the brakes to keep from accelerating. Curve: apply the brake, then accelerate out into the next straightaway. Steady pressure through the next curve, then ride the brake on the next downgrade.  
  
They pulled out of the next curve, then a sudden jog to the west took them right to the curve where the Chiba's car had punched through the guardrail. The compact's shadow leapt out in front of them as they approached the curve, as if pointing directly to the spot. Jason could see the sunlight gleaming off of the cars parked at the scenic overlook on the opposite cliff.  
  
"I'm going to pull off at the overlook," said Keisuke. "You look like you've got an idea, Wright-san."  
  
"The beginnings of one, maybe. You said that it was still daylight when they crashed, right? Shortly before sunset?"  
  
They pulled into the overlook. A small gaggle of tourists were admiring the cliffs. One or two even snapped a photo, despite the fact that they were shooting straight into the sun. The two detectives walked up to the edge, well away from the other visitors.  
  
"Here's the thing," said Jason. "The brake line was punctured, not cut clean through. Brake fluid is highly..." he searched his mind for the Japanese for 'viscous' and drew a blank. "Well, it's pretty thick. You wouldn't lose it all at once. If the line was nicked even the day before, they might not notice a puddle on the garage floor. Since it was August, chances are that any puddles would be mistaken for condensation from the car's air-conditioning unit."  
  
Jason thought through the drive. "They were coming from the north, right? So they were going downhill most of the way. The driver would have to apply the brake a little bit at a time. Each time he hit the brake, he'd lose a little more fluid, and the brakes would get more and more spongy."  
  
"In other words, the failure would sneak up on him," said Keisuke. "But the warning light..."  
  
"All of the vehicle identification numbers were all removed, even the ones on the engine. Whoever did this knew cars. Disabling a warning light would be a piece of cake. I don't guess there's any chance that the wreck's still in impound after fourteen years?"  
  
Keisuke shook his head. "Already checked. All we have are the photos."  
  
Jason squinted into the sun. "Anyhow, they're going fast, losing brake fluid, and then they come up to this curve. The afternoon sunlight would be coming from over here," he said, turning and pointing behind him, "and hitting the driver straight in the eyes as he came out of that one bend into this curve. Because this overlook is straight across from there, he might have thought that he was on a straightaway and not seen how the road curved until it was too late."  
  
The two men were silent for a while. They rested their elbows on the rail, gazing into the shadows of the cliff. The sea continued to pound at its base, the white breakers climbing up the sheer rock wall, then drawing back to show the sea-smoothed rocks that sloped gently into the sea. It was a miracle that the recovery and forensics teams had been able to get to the wreck. Jason tried to picture the ropes and harnesses belayed from above, and the inflatable boats inching tentatively to the site, trying not add to the night's death-toll. He imagined a metal stretcher being lowered to the site to be loaded with its small, fragile cargo. Jason clenched his fists, his fingernails biting deep into his palms.  
  
I should have been here. The thought was so clear that for a moment he thought that Keisuke had spoken. Crazy, he thought. I wasn't even in Japan then. I would have been, what, thirteen? But then, not so crazy, if what he suspected about Chiba was true. The trouble was, how on earth would he be able to speak to the young man without Keisuke or Seidou around? And then, what could he say to Chiba that wouldn't make him sound like a complete lunatic?  
  
But this time, he thought, it almost looked like Chiba recognized me. I wish I knew if that was a good thing or not. And then there are those girls. That could be a big problem.  
  
Jason knew one place he could go to get the answers he needed. The problem there would be surviving to do anything with what he found out.  
  
He wished he still had the option of going back home and forgetting about the whole thing. But then, he'd been trying to forget for the past three years with no success. He'd tried losing himself in routine. He'd even tried losing himself in a bottle. That might have worked, but he'd seen what had happened to Kellerman, to Gharty, to all the others who tried to self-destruct their way out of their problems. He knew better than that, he told himself, and actually believed it enough to pull himself out of a death spiral. That, and he was ordered to get himself to a counselor or hand in his badge before he hurt himself or someone else.  
  
You shall know the truth, and the truth will make you free, he remembered. He hadn't been to Mass in nearly a decade, but every now and then the odd verse or line from the liturgy would pop into his head. Yeah, but what is truth? Pilate's snarky comment also came all too easily to mind. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.  
  
For years he had almost managed to believe that the truth of the matter was that these memories, that all of these strange experiences were nothing more than a morbid fantasy, one part concussion, one part fever, and about twenty parts of what his therapist had labeled 'misplaced guilt.' The visit to Chiba's apartment had blown that hope into a thousand tiny pieces.  
  
"It's the clothing that bothers me," said Keisuke.  
  
Jason snapped out of his introspection. Clothing? What clothing? Whose clothing?  
  
"Now it makes sense that someone could have gotten to the car beforehand to sabotage the brakes and remove the numbers," said Keisuke, "but how on earth could anyone have gotten down there to remove the license plates and the tags from their clothes?"  
  
Oh... The case. The whole reason they were out there in the first place. Jason mentally slapped himself in the face and returned to the task at hand. It figured that the one case he'd be assigned to on this little working vacation would be intimately tied to his own problems. Even so, he ran Keisuke's question through his mind, and the puzzle quickly grabbed his full attention.  
  
Approaching the scene by boat would be risky, even under ideal conditions. He recalled from Seidou's notes that the crime scene team had checked the area for any signs that pitons, ropes, or other climbing equipment had been used near the time of the crash. Nothing.  
  
"Good point. Thorough bastards, weren't they?" Jason said. "I don't see how that could have happened any time but after the fact. Someone was on the scene, and somehow had enough time to get down there without leaving a noticeable trace." He thought about that for a moment. "It could be that whoever did this already had someone down among the rocks, waiting. Either way, it would have taken some serious planning."  
  
Keisuke took a deep breath, then continued. When he spoke, Jason could hear the excitement in his voice. "There's something that was noted in the file, but that Seidou-san wasn't able to reconcile before they closed the case on her." Keisuke pulled out one of the photographs of the wrecked car. "The car did a straight dive into the shallow water over there," he said, pointing at the base of the cliff opposite them. "The front end was crushed like tinfoil, but the rear of the car didn't sustain quite as much damage. The fact that the car was mostly submerged kept it from catching on fire."  
  
"Allowing the kid to pull through in one piece," Jason said. He could feel a tremor deep in his chest, rising up, making him almost lightheaded. It's coming together, he thought. Somehow, we've found some pieces of this puzzle that fit together.  
  
"Barely. Someone was watching out for him, that's for certain. However, there was some damage to the rear of the car that didn't fit with the crash scenario. Seidou questioned it, but she was told that the damage had most likely come from a prior incident, since it was so minor."  
  
Keisuke showed Jason a close-up photo of creased and scratched sheet metal. "This is a detail of the right rear quarter-panel," he said. He ran his finger over some streaks and scratches. "See these?"  
  
Jason looked closely. The Honda's maroon paint was abraded in streaks. In some places, the metal beneath showed through. Along several of the scrapes, he could just make out some flakes of dark green.  
  
"Paint transfer," he said. "It looks like someone clipped them, or vice versa." They were the kind of marks you could get if you tried changing lanes on the highway, and someone was in your blind-spot. It could also happen if someone misjudged the width of a parking space. But that wasn't what happened, was it? The tremor was still building, the tension was about to break.  
  
"Here's what I'm thinking," said Keisuke. "There had to be a reason that this family was driving so fast, yes? A couple of teenagers might try to take this road at high speed just for kicks..."  
  
"But not someone with his wife and kid in the car, not unless they were in one hell of a hurry," Jason concurred. He and Keisuke were now thinking out loud as a unit, feeling their way towards an answer. "They were going fast, fast enough that failing brakes wouldn't have stopped them completely."  
  
"Yes. But they could have swerved to the right, and into the bushes on the inland side of the road. It would have hurt, but it probably wouldn't have been fatal. Now this is the photograph that caught my attention. I didn't notice it until yesterday."  
  
Keisuke pulled out another photograph, this time of the Honda's bumper. It was chrome and black rubber. It showed similar streaks and paint-transfer. Jason peered at the lines of color. It took him a moment, but he finally saw what Keisuke had noticed that morning.  
  
"Dear God. Let me see the picture of the quarter panel again, Takamori- san."  
  
He looked again at the photos. It wasn't as clear on the picture of the quarter panel, but now that he had seen the other photo, it was obvious. Normally, if one car clipped another, there would be one series of parallel marks where the two swapped paint. In the photos, however, the marks overlapped. All of the marks showed signs of the dark green paint. The other car hadn't bumped the Honda once, but several times.  
  
"Seidou-san's a brilliant detective," said Keisuke, almost apologetically, "but she's at her best when dealing with people and alibis. She'd be the first to admit that she needs help interpreting forensic evidence. I like to think that she'd have figured it out, had she been given more time on the case."  
  
"They were being chased," Jason said. His own voice sounded as if it were coming from far away. "The green car pursued them, and wouldn't let them pull over to the inland side of the road." He traced the marks on the quarter panel. "Each time they tried to pull away from the guard rail, the other car would pull up and to the side and block them in."  
  
"I imagine the driver would have been in a panic," Keisuke said softly. "Imagine, you're on a drive with your wife and child, and then you acquire a pursuer. All you can do is try to get away—it would be impossible to think of how you could evade the other car."  
  
"Then you notice that your brakes are going soft," Jason continued. His own heart was racing as he replayed the events as they must have been for the driver. Confusion, not just your own, but your family's as well. Shouts and screams of terror each time the other car scraped against yours, pushing you closer and closer to the cliff. Feeling yourself losing more and more control of the car as speed and centrifugal force made each curve a nightmare. Tramping on the brakes, feeling them catch less and less. Then, finally, the sun blinding you, keeping you from seeing the guard rail right in front of you until you were right on top of it. Instinct would kick in. You would slam on the brakes, try to swerve, but too late...  
  
They were silent for a while, each man looking across the turbulent water and through time to see a maroon car blast through the guard rail and silently plummet into the surf.  
  
"They were herded off the cliff," Keisuke said simply. "I can see how one might choose to block such a thing from one's memory."  
  
"We've figured it out, haven't we," said Jason, trying to bite back the thrill of success. This wasn't just a puzzle to be solved. Two people had died, and a young man was still living with the aftereffects of their murder. The other implications of the case were, for the moment, forgotten. "Wait 'til we tell Seidou about this!"  
  
Again, there was a moment or two of silence.  
  
"She's gonna kill us, isn't she?" Jason asked.  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: The confusion should clear in the next couple of chapters, so thanks for bearing with me! In the next chapter, Jason has his first encounter with a Sailor Senshi, and the girls bring a new member into the fold.  
  
Note to Homicide fans: In terms of how Jason fits in with the old, familiar crew, more will be explained shortly. One thing I will tell you is that in the Sailor Moon universe, Jason was there with Lewis and Kellerman instead of Stivers during the infamous confrontation with Luther Mahoney. 


	7. Recognition

Empire of the Sun  
By Sophia Prester  
  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter one.  
Author's notes: The technical stuff is at the end, as per usual.  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven: Recognition  
  
  
  
Wednesday, July 4  
1:59 p.m.  
  
  
Taiyouko Seidou knew Japan's criminal justice system inside   
and out. She knew the loopholes, she knew the pitfalls, and she knew   
how to marshal her evidence to get the verdict she wanted in court.  
  
One thing that continued to baffle her, however, was why they   
always made her show up in court at ten o' clock when she wouldn't   
be called to the stand until well after two.   
  
For nearly four hours she been fretting, fidgeting, and fuming   
as her brain tied itself into knots. There was a very good chance   
that the judge would allow Shinichiro Aoshima to be released from   
custody, instead of acknowledging that why yes, there *was* a huge,   
festering pile of evidence that proved the rat-bastard was a cold-  
blooded murderer! So what if he hadn't signed a confession?  
  
Let's see, she thought, ticking off the salient points on her   
fingers. His shoeprints, tire prints, and fibers from his jacket   
were present at the scene. Fingernail scrapings from the victim and   
some stray hairs found at the crime scene yielded a perfect DNA   
match. And bless Juni Watanabe's nerdy little heart, she'd been able   
to take Aoshima's gloves and match the grain of the leather to marks   
at the scene.   
  
Unfortunately, this particular judge's normal reluctance to   
release a suspect was likely to be overruled by Aoshima's family and   
political connections. The prosecutor had also warned her that this   
judge was skeptical about DNA evidence, and that there was a good   
chance that the elderly judge would simply ignore Taiyouko's   
testimony because she had the audacity to be female.   
  
She shook her head in disgust. God only knew what he'd think   
of Watanabe, the girliest girl to ever cut into a cadaver. To make   
matters even worse, the forensics expert's verbal and social skills   
spontaneously reverted to kindergarten-level whenever she was pulled   
out of her lab and thrown into a confrontational environment.  
  
Taiyouko would be called up in about a half hour, probably.   
Hopefully. She had to be ready to go into damage-control mode, and   
project enough confidence that the judge would believe not just her,   
but Watanabe-sensei as well. He might not know from genetic markers,   
but he could understand the universal trio of means, motive, and   
opportunity.  
  
Unfortunately, as wound up as she was right now, there was a   
better than even chance she'd get up in front of the judge and make   
Watanabe look like a classically trained Shakespearian actress by   
comparison.  
  
The root of her frustration was the appliquŽd tote bag that   
sat at her feet, mocking her. At the moment, all it contained was   
her favorite embroidery hoop and a paper bag with a brand-new   
Christmas ornament kit inside. An over-zealous security moron had   
confiscated her embroidery snips and needle case. If she'd been able   
to stitch, not only would the four hours have flown by, she would   
have been able to achieve the Zen frame of mind needed to reduce   
even the most confident defense attorney to tears of despair and   
self-loathing.  
  
It also would have helped her keep her mind off the Chiba   
case. Rather than rehearsing the facts of the case at hand, she kept   
going over details from fourteen years ago.  
  
The car had gone over the cliff, and the couple's identity had   
been erased. The how of the crime was going to be hard to   
reconstruct, but Taiyouko was sure that they would get there   
eventually. The real poser was the why. If there were any clues in   
motor vehicle or bank records, Keisuke would ferret them out. Her   
job, the way she saw it, was to get as much information out of Chiba   
as she could.  
  
It figured that the only eyewitness to the crime would be an   
anal-retentive amnesiac, she groused. She reached into the tote,   
ripped a piece off of the bag inside, and jotted a note for   
Watanabe.  
  
**Question--amnesia? Would physical injury alone lead to the   
loss of past memories, or is it more likely to be psy- (she gave up   
on the spelling, crossed it out) just mental?**  
  
If they were dealing with suppressed memories, and not brain   
damage, that improved the chances of getting those memories out. How   
to do that, though?  
  
She added a P.S. to the note--**give me the name of a couple   
of reputable shrinks.**  
  
That, however, would be a last resort. A psychiatrist good   
enough to be considered reputable would be more interested in   
helping the patient than helping her find out who'd nearly killed   
him in the first place.  
  
There were other ways she could get to Chiba and start digging   
around in his head.  
  
When she was at Chiba's apartment, she'd recognized Makoto   
Kino right off the bat. She'd been in a picture with four other   
girls. A close circle of friends, somehow connected to Chiba. One of   
them might know something, or might have been smart enough to start   
putting two and two together, but just not knowing what questions to   
ask.  
  
And, if they were his friends, then wouldn't it be natural for   
them to want to help an old friend of theirs learn more about his   
poor old mummy and daddy?   
  
She ripped off another piece of bag and made a note to find   
out who these girls were and where they went to school. First step,   
talk to Kino. Then, set Keisuke up to do the interviews. He was good   
with kids, and people did tend to trust him. He wasn't good at   
reading the subtle clues that would tell him what line of   
questioning to follow, or how hard to push, but he'd know if one of   
them was lying. Then, he could sic Taiyouko on the unfortunate soul.   
  
She grinned. This might be easier than she thought.  
  
The question of the hour was, why did Wright recognize the   
girls? Some of the girls? One of the girls?  
  
Then, the old lurker shifted. It thought she might be on to   
something. It had an idea.  
  
Now wait... hadn't she meant to get all of that sorted out?   
She was going to pin this thing down and...  
  
I have information, the thing said urgently, cutting off that   
train of thought. Something from your own memory. Something you'd   
forgotten. Something important.  
  
"Stupid cryptic voice," she muttered. The two other people in   
the waiting room looked at her, but looked away just as quickly when   
they caught the glint in her eye.  
  
Something had happened last night--she was sure of it. She'd   
been too intent on winkling this thing out of her brain simply to   
let the idea slip from her mind. Even so, she was not going to make   
an issue of it, not when she had to look like a competent witness in   
front of a judge. And it would be an issue, no doubt about that. The   
idea of this thing going scrap-picking through her memories did not   
sit well with her.   
  
"Well?" she thought at it.  
  
She waited. The lurker did not disappoint. Images of her visit   
to Chiba's apartment flicked across her mind's eye like a slide   
show.  
  
Greeting Chiba. His look of surprise to see two people at his   
door. Shaking the boy's hand, looking up into dark blue eyes that   
held confusion and fear.  
  
He's hiding something, Taiyouko thought. There's something he   
really, *really* doesn't want us to know.  
  
There's more, said the lurker. Watch.  
  
Introducing Chiba and Wright. The stereotypical male   
handshake, two dogs vying for alpha position. No... wait. Taiyouko   
replayed the scene in her mind. Don't listen to the words, she told   
herself. Don't concentrate on the handshake. Look at the faces.  
  
"Well I'll be double-dipped," she whispered between clenched   
teeth. The two men had recognized each other! That god-damned   
hypocritical lying American bastard had played her! He recognized   
Chiba and he had the gall not to tell her? He had knowingly   
compromised the case--*her* case!  
  
Oh, when she got through with him...  
  
She was surging to her feet when the lurker seemed to reach   
out a hand and gently push her anger back down.  
  
I did tell you not to trust him, said the lurker, a little   
snippily. But there's something more important than that.  
  
I thought my job here was complete, the lurker continued, but   
I was wrong. If all had gone well, I would have remained asleep in   
your mind for the rest of your life.   
  
By now Taiyouko could begin to hear the nuances in the   
lurker's "voice." Right now, it sounded very much like her own voice   
when she was fighting not to lash out in fury.  
  
"Again with the cryptic," she muttered, keeping an eye on the   
other two people in the room. "What kind of job are you talking   
about, and how did you screw it up in the first place?"  
  
She could have sworn that she heard the lurker sigh. It "said"   
nothing, but instead showed her more images, this time of the   
photographs on Chiba's bookcase. The blonde girl who was in most of   
the photos. She looked vaguely familiar, as did the other girls who   
hung out with Kino. The hairstyle, however, that weird 'do that   
reminded her of Mickey Mouse ears... the more she looked at it the   
more familiar it seemed.  
  
Oh shit.   
  
Taiyouko's throat clamped shut as she realized just who this   
girl was.  
  
Usagi Tsukino.  
  
The last time she'd seen her, the little sprog had been maybe   
what, six or seven?  
  
Taiyouko tried to clear her throat, but the imaginary   
obstruction would not move.   
  
It may have been a fluke that the hairstyle was still the   
same, but now that she'd put a name to the face, more things leapt   
to her memory. Those sky-blue eyes. The innocent smile.  
  
Her brow broke out in a cold sweat as she tried not to show   
her struggle to breathe.  
  
No doubt about it, that was Ku-chan's little girl. The two   
other people in the waiting room stared at her in alarm as she   
started coughing violently.  
  
Fourteen years ago, something told her that the attack on her   
old friend was somehow connected to the so-called accident she was   
investigating. It was one of the few times in her life when she had   
let her "intuition" overrule her common sense.  
  
Now, she thought, was it some*thing* that had told her about   
the connection, or some*one*?  
  
She rubbed at her throat, sighing in relief as the choking   
sensation faded away. Damn! For a moment there, it felt like she'd   
swallowed an anvil.  
  
"Enough with the physical threats. You don't want to play that   
kind of game with me," she silently warned the lurker.   
  
There was a frantic denial of any wrongdoing, but she ignored   
it. The important thing was that there was a connection between   
Chiba and the Tsukino girl. The murder of Chiba's parents in 1987   
and the near death of Ikuko Tsukino in 1983 *were* connected. She   
*wasn't* crazy.  
  
(Even if she was carrying on conversations with the voices in   
her head, but she tried not to think too much about that.)  
  
She would definitely have to call Ku-chan and arrange for a   
little get-together. Maybe now that the incident was safely in the   
past, Ku-chan would be willing to talk about it. She might recall   
something that seemed trivial then, but might mean something now.   
Maybe she could arrange for little Usagi to come along on their   
outing, and see if she could casually pry out some information.  
  
Taiyouko pulled out her cell phone, started to dial Ku-chan's   
number, then paused.  
  
Just how much should she tell her old friend about what was   
going on?   
  
When she had saved her friend's life those many years ago, it   
was nearly at the expense of their friendship. Taiyouko could   
understand that. No matter how you looked at it, having a bullet   
pass within a centimeter of your head only to splatter you with the   
blood and brains of the man who was trying to kill you was not the   
sort of thing of which happy memories are made.  
  
It was years before Ku-chan was willing to say any more than   
"hello" or "how are you doing" before scuttling away or freezing her   
out. Once the fear and horror had passed, Ikuko reached out to   
Taiyouko once more, but had set stern limits as to how much shop   
talk she would tolerate.  
  
Not telling her about the case was not an option. For all she   
knew, Chiba had already told Usagi all about his interview with the   
two detectives, and who knew how much Usagi might tell her mother?  
  
This needed some careful thought.  
  
In the meantime, while she was waiting for Anita to dig up   
some dirt on him, there was something else she could do to find out   
a little more about the mysterious Mr. Wright. Taiyouko hummed   
happily to herself as she dialed the station. The timing on this   
should work perfectly. Kino usually got back to her apartment around   
four-thirty most days, and Keisuke would be going to watch Misako's   
game right after work.  
  
Keisuke picked up the phone. As soon as he heard it was her,   
he started babbling on about a second car. This immediately got her   
attention. Keisuke *never* babbled.  
  
"Look, I missed most of what you just said. Could you... Uh-  
huh... Dark green?... Yeah, it makes sense, but run the photos by   
Watanabe and see if she buys your theory--she'll be heading back to   
her lab after this is over. Also, go ahead and run another check on   
the guy who called in the accident... Yes, Detective I-think-of-  
everything Takamori, we grilled him pretty thoroughly at the time."  
  
First on the scene, first in the box. That was the rule. She'd   
questioned the guy, but there was nothing to point to him being   
anything other than a concerned citizen. There was no reason for her   
to even think about examining his vehicle.  
  
"This time, I want you to run his motor vehicle records...   
Yeah, that's exactly what I'm thinking. Also, find out where he's   
living now. Oh, and while you jump on that like a good little   
lackey, let me speak to Wright."  
  
Keisuke dutifully passed over the phone. "Jason... yeah, good   
work on the car... Look, I said 'good work,' so you can stop fishing   
for compliments. Anyhow, I'm going straight home from here, and   
there's something I forgot to give to Keisuke. Would you mind   
stopping by my apartment?... Great! You're a real life-saver. I   
really wanted to get this to Akiko tonight if at all possible. Get a   
pencil, I'll give you directions to my place."  
  
It wasn't entirely a lie. Akiko had been antsier than a two-  
year-old on a sugar high about the "Rose Tree in Bloom" pattern   
Taiyouko had just gotten in. Akiko didn't *need* it, but getting it   
sooner than expected would make her day.  
  
"They must have been drinking some bad sake when they numbered   
the apartments, so don't even try to figure it out. Just go up two   
flights of steps from the lobby, and it'll be the third door on your   
right. Try to get there around five--I should be home by then."  
  
All nice and easy, and except for one tiny detail, absolutely   
correct.  
  
  
  
4:57 p.m.  
  
  
Oh, it was good to get out of that uniform! Days like this   
demanded sundresses and sandals. Makoto pulled open the door to her   
balcony. The air had a heavy, metallic feel to it. It looked like   
they had seen the last of their unseasonably mild weather.  
  
She stretched, pushing her hands up nearly to the ceiling.   
Maybe she should tell Minako she was going to bail on tonight's   
"girl's night out." The homework was piling up, and she really did   
want to spend a nice evening with a cup of tea, her plants, and some   
good music. She could just lounge around in her comfortable cotton   
dress and enjoy her tidy, breezy apartment and all of her pretty   
things. It almost made the idea of studying for her biology quiz   
seem appealing. Almost.  
  
The knock on her door literally made her jump. Had she been   
that lost in her thoughts? No, the clock only said five--who was   
likely to be running early?  
  
The knocking came again, rattling the door in its frame. She   
opened the door, expecting to see Usagi or Minako, only to find   
herself staring at the knot of someone's necktie.  
  
She looked up and the stranger looked down.  
  
Ohhhh.... my....  
  
She must have done *something* right in this life. Tall,   
handsome, blond, blue-eyed men with adorably mussy hair did not   
simply appear on your doorstep like a special-delivery package   
unless you had been very, very good indeed.  
  
Okay, Mako-chan. Just keep your cool. Breathe!  
  
"Can I help you with something?" she asked. That's right.   
Sound friendly, but not overly eager. Don't scare him off.  
  
The stranger looked at the number on her apartment door. "I   
didn't mean to bother you. Somehow, I don't think I've got the right   
apartment." He had a slight accent, which just added some exotic   
icing to the cake.  
  
Actually, you *did* have the right apartment, Makoto wanted to   
say, but she resisted the impulse.  
  
"Don't even try to figure it out," she said. "It's easier just   
to count doors."  
  
"Yeah," he said, still staring at the apartment number as if   
he could change it by sheer willpower. "That's what Seidou-san said,   
but this *is* the third door on the right, isn't it?"  
  
"Oh! Taiyouko-san's apartment is right above mine," Makoto   
said, pointing at the ceiling. "You just got off on the wrong floor,   
that's all."  
  
And lucky, lucky, lucky me! She forced herself not to think of   
fate, of destiny, of eternal love, of romantic evenings, or domestic   
bliss. This was simply an opportunity. A learning experience.   
  
Even if this stranger turned out to be married, gay, evil,   
obnoxious, a demon in disguise, leaving the country the next day, a   
serial killer, female, a two-timer, or a figment of her imagination,   
this was a chance to learn how not to act like an idiot when   
confronted by a handsome, charming, and hopefully not evil stranger.  
  
Fortunately, the man didn't immediately head for the   
stairwell. Had she made an impression? Or maybe he just didn't   
understand her. He was foreign, after all.  
  
He studied her for a moment. "You know Seidou-san?" he finally   
asked. He seemed wary, but given her neighbor's reputation, that was   
only to be expected.  
  
Makoto nodded. "A little." She blushed, and giggled. Just like   
a schoolgirl, damn it! "She... uh... well, she smokes, you see, and   
she used to empty her ashtrays off her balcony, and since she lives   
right above me the butts kept landing in my planters. That's how   
we... met."  
  
"Why does this not surprise me," the man muttered. He smiled,   
not so much with his mouth, but with his eyes.  
  
Makoto laughed, not a nervous schoolgirl giggle this time, but   
a deep and decidedly unfeminine laugh. The stranger didn't seem at   
all taken aback. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes, sharing   
in the joke.  
  
"She's a little different, isn't she?" Makoto ventured.  
  
"Now *that* is an understatement," the man drawled. He held   
out a hand. "Jason Wright. Another victim of the temperamental   
Seidou-san. Somehow, I seem to have become her errand-boy."  
  
She shook his hand firmly. Somehow, she was able to look into   
those incredible blue eyes without losing her composure. She'd   
noticed the spark of mischief in them right away, but now she could   
see something else. Sadness? Whatever it was, it went deep.  
  
What did people see in her eyes?  
  
"Makoto Kino. Nice to meet you, Wright-san." The polite   
greeting took on the feel of an old joke. "You know, Taiyouko-san   
really isn't that bad, once you get used to her. She did apologize   
about the cigarettes, and she gave me this cute little sampler she'd   
embroidered."  
  
Wright cocked one eyebrow. "Seidou? Embroidery? Now *this*   
I've got to see."  
  
Oh, why not? What did she have to lose? Only her dignity. "I   
have it up in my kitchen, if you'd like to see it before you run   
upstairs." Makoto stepped back, encouraging him to follow her in.  
  
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. He looked   
around and nodded his approval at what he saw. "This is a nice   
place. You've managed to make it bigger than it really is. I like   
it."  
  
She suppressed the urge to play up all of her domestic, wifely   
talents. "Uh... thanks," she said, not sure what else to say.  
  
"So, how do you know Taiyouko-san?" she finally asked, for   
lack of anything interesting to say.  
  
Wright pointed to her herb rack with a 'do you mind?' sort of   
gesture. Makoto clutched her hands together in front of her and   
nodded brightly.   
  
"I'm here as part of my job--kind of a cross-cultural training   
thing--and they've stuck me with her. Talk about being thrown into   
something head-first." He stooped down to examine the plants, even   
rubbing his fingers through the rosemary to release the smell. "Hey,   
you've got these growing really well. That's not easy to do   
indoors."  
  
"You... you have a garden, too?" His *wife* probably did, she   
told herself. Either that, or he hides all the bodies under the   
tomato plants. There was no point in getting her hopes up too soon.  
  
He shook his head. "One of my sisters is really into herbal   
medicine and all that stuff, so I've picked up some knowledge here   
and there. So where's this sampler you were telling me about?"  
  
She led him into the kitchen, and pointed it out. It was   
small, just four different species of herb embroidered on cream-  
colored linen, with the names of each plant stitched in French.  
  
"Not bad," he said grudgingly. He checked his watch. "Listen,   
I hate to run, but I'd better get going. She did tell me to stop by   
around five, and if I'm late, she'll probably get sarcastic with   
me."  
  
Ack! He's leaving? There had to be some way to make a good   
lasting impression... aha! "Hold on just a minute! I baked some   
cookies the other day." They were meant for today's study session,   
but so what? She was sacrificing them for a higher cause. "Would you   
mind taking some up to Taiyouko-san? Tell her that Mako-chan says   
hi."  
  
She bagged up four of the fudge-filled chocolate macaroons   
she'd made. Then, she shyly put two more in another bag. "Take a   
couple for yourself."  
  
"Hey! Free food! Always a plus."  
  
He smiled and thanked her, and Makoto felt something in her   
heart twist and go soft. For just a moment, those blue eyes of his   
lit up, and he looked genuinely happy, like a child. A touch of   
sadness still remained, though, just like the sorrow that never   
quite left Usagi's eyes or that feeling of something dark and solemn   
that followed Hotaru like a ghost.  
  
She walked him to the door, dawdling just a little. "I hate to   
admit it, but I have no idea what Taiyouko-san actually does for a   
living."  
  
"You don't? She's actually with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police,   
believe it or not. Homicide."  
  
"No way! She doesn't... well, she's doesn't exactly look like   
Lucy Lawless of Michelle Yeoh, if you know what I mean."  
  
He nodded, the laughter showing in his eyes. "It *is* hard to   
imagine her doing the required judo courses. Still, you can't always   
judge a book by its cover." He winked conspiratorially. "You never   
know what secrets people might be hiding."  
  
Oh, she knew all about that all right. It was a good thing   
there wasn't a storm in the offing, or he'd have gotten one heck of   
a static shock when he shook her hand.  
  
He bowed politely and naturally, surprising from an American.   
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Kino-san. I--"  
  
Whatever he was about to say--I hope I run into you again, I   
would like to get to know you better, I would like you to bear my   
children--was cut off by a stereophonic shout.  
  
"Mako-chan!"   
  
Two of her nearest, dearest friends emerged from the stairwell   
and charged towards her beautiful moment. Wright stopped mid-word to   
stare, stunned, at petite, adorable Ami, and elegant, exotic Rei.   
Makoto forced herself to do the hospitable thing and greet her   
friends politely:  
  
"You're early."  
  
The temperature in the hallway plunged so sharply, it was as   
if Mercury had let fly with a Shabon Spray.  
  
"Usagi and Minako both said they wanted to spend some time   
working on math, and Rei also has a biology quiz tomorrow, so I   
thought that if we showed up a little early, we could review   
together," Ami said with damnable cheerfulness. She smiled sweetly   
at Wright. "Our college entrance exams are coming up," she informed   
him.  
  
"You're in high-school?" Wright asked Makoto, finally emerging   
from his stupor, only to surface in the land of shock.  
  
Maybe by smiling and clenching her teeth together, she could   
keep from screaming. "Well, we *are* seniors. Wright-san, these are   
my... friends." Maybe. Sometimes. "Ami Mizuno and Rei Hino."  
  
Rei bowed in greeting, then snapped to attention, cocking her   
head to one side. "Have we met?"  
  
"Huh? No. We couldn't have met. I've been here less than a   
week." He turned panicked eyes to Makoto, as if begging for help.  
  
"Wright-san is new in town, and I was helping him with some   
directions," Makoto explained. "Fortunately, we've got it all   
straightened out."  
  
So don't even think of trying to help. Mine!  
  
Rei studied Wright as if he were some new and interesting   
species of insect. "You're from America, Wright-san? What brings you   
here?"  
  
"Work," Makoto barked. "He was just telling me all about it,"   
she said through clenched teeth. For a supposed psychic, Rei sure   
had a crummy sense of timing.  
  
Rei swung her briefcase back and forth as she continued to   
study Wright. "You remind me of someone, but I can't think of who."  
  
"I guess all Americans must look alike," Wright suggested, his   
voice cracking slightly. "I've been here less than a week, so I   
really don't think we could have met."  
  
"I suppose not," Rei said after an agonizing five seconds. "I   
just wish I could remember who you remind me of." Then she smiled   
charmingly and bowed once more. "I any event, it's a pleasure to   
meet you, Wright-san."  
  
Not *too* much of a pleasure, I trust, Makoto thought.  
  
Wright saw the opportunity in Rei's greeting and grabbed it.   
"Nice to meet the two of you as well! Sorry, I can't stay, but I'm   
running late." And with that, he ran. He stopped just at the door to   
the stairwell. "Thanks again for the cookies," he called.  
  
That was probably the last she'd ever see of him, Makoto   
thought. Once he'd found out she was only a high-school student...  
  
"Cookies?" asked Rei. Makoto didn't need to look at her face   
to know that one eyebrow was raised. "I got the impression that you   
had just met him."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?" She glared down at   
her two so-called friends. "You didn't have to scare him off like   
that!" she growled.  
  
At least Minako hadn't been there. That could have been ugly.  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry, Mako-chan!" Ami exclaimed. "Was he..."  
  
"Let me guess. Did he look like your old sempai?" Rei asked   
wearily.  
  
"What was he doing in your apartment, anyway? And I wonder why   
he was in such a hurry to leave?" Ami asked. Even though Ami   
wouldn't have meant it to sound like an innuendo, that's how it hit   
Makoto's ears.   
  
"He doesn't look *anything* like my old sempai!" Makoto   
snapped. She was about to explain what the handsome American   
detective was doing there when she realized just what it was she was   
about to say.  
  
Mamoru said that two detectives had come to speak with him. A   
woman...  
  
...and an American.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
"Mako-chan? What's wrong?" Ami asked, concern winning out over   
embarrassment.  
  
"I *knew* it was too good to be true! It's *always* too good   
to be true!" Makoto moaned.  
  
  
  
7:30 p.m.  
  
  
ChibiUsa sat propped up against the headboard of Hotaru's bed,   
balancing a bag of ice on her knee. Her second day of school back in   
the twenty-first century, and she had already fallen prey to her   
newest   
arch-nemesis--P.E.  
  
After nine hundred years, she had become thoroughly accustomed   
to   
being a particular size, and her body was constantly forgetting about   
all that extra length in its arms and legs, not to mention the   
radically different center of gravity. To make matters worse, she was   
*still* growing. She felt a sudden chill as she remembered all the   
times she had razzed Usagi about her terminal klutziness.   
  
She didn't even want to *think* about how much karmic payback   
she   
had in store.  
  
Hotaru lay cross-wise across the foot of the bed, resting her   
chin on folded arms. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be   
totally blissed out, listening to the music.   
  
ChibiUsa studied the CD case. The artist was a woman who looked   
a   
lot like Usagi's friend Naru. Well, Naru didn't wear quite so many   
earrings at one time and didn't have any tattoos that ChibiUsa knew   
of.   
This woman was probably also at least ten years older than Naru, but   
ChibiUsa knew that she was horrible at guessing ages. It wasn't like   
looks were any clue to age back in Crystal Tokyo.  
  
"Kathy Celeste," she read from the liner notes, having a little   
trouble with the 'th' sound. "I like this. What kind of music is it?   
That's a harp, isn't it?"  
  
"Uh-uh. Hammered dulcimer," said a drowsy Hotaru. "It sounds   
like   
dancing, doesn't it?"  
  
It did, ChibiUsa thought. The quick, sprightly notes   
practically   
bounced out of the speakers and flew around the room. Something like   
an   
accordion joined in, along with other instruments, including one that   
sounded like someone shaking a box full of rice. Soon, a light   
soprano   
voice rose above the instruments, not flowing or floating, but   
hitting   
each syllable almost defiantly, sounding more like laughter than   
singing. She didn't understand how Hotaru could stay so still.  
  
Neither girl could understand what the woman was singing, but   
both agreed that she sounded like she was having fun. ChibiUsa's legs   
jiggled and jounced in time to the music, despite the sore knee. She   
was tempted to jump up and start dancing around the room--never mind   
what Hotaru might think--when the music stopped. Even though the   
display on the stereo said the song was nearly five minutes long, it   
felt like it was over in a heartbeat.  
  
The next song started out with nothing but acoustic guitar,   
playing something soft, slow, and endlessly falling. ChibiUsa thought   
she could hear the sound of the player's fingers scraping along the   
strings. After a few bars, the voice joined it. It wasn't laughing   
like   
in the first song. This time, the child-like soprano voice sounded   
like   
it came from someone who was lost, and very far away.  
  
I never knew it could be so lonely,  
In this dark between two stars  
There's no light here that can warm me  
That can tell me where you are.  
  
Are you safe, are you happy?  
Do you thank the stars you're free?  
Or are you somewhere dark and lonely?  
Are you lost?  
Do you miss me?  
  
Hotaru aimed the remote control and zapped the CD player as if   
she were blasting it with a death-ray.  
  
"Hey! That was pretty!" protested ChibiUsa.  
  
"It's too sad," said Hotaru. "I don't really know what it means   
yet, but Michiru-mama told me that Celeste-san wrote that song after   
her husband died or left her or something. I'll let you borrow the CD   
if you want to take it home and listen to it." She continued to zap   
the   
CD player until it cued up the track she wanted. "Anyway, this is the   
one I wanted to play for you."  
  
This time, they heard the excited hum of a crowd. There was   
rough   
laughter, and the sound of glasses on wooden tables. Hotaru   
practically   
shivered with excitement and she propped herself up on her elbows.   
"Michiru-mama and Haruka-papa heard her play at some pub when they   
were   
in Toronto last year," she said. She turned to ChibiUsa and grinned   
mischievously. "They were actually in the audience when this one was   
recorded."  
  
As Hotaru explained, Celeste was saying something to the crowd.   
ChibiUsa's English may not have been terribly good, but she did   
understand the word 'surprise.'  
  
A violin started to sketch out a jerky, simple little tune.  
  
"That's not Michiru, is it?"  
  
"Not yet, now shhh!"  
  
A second violin joined in, punctuating the tune with long,   
sliding notes. Hotaru smiled at ChibiUsa and nodded. The dulcimer   
came   
in, throwing in seemingly random grace notes, then gradually filling   
in   
until it matched the tune of the first violin. Then... a low, hollow   
drumming rose up from beneath the dulcimer, and the dulcimer picked   
up   
its tune and *ran*.  
  
Both violins followed in merry chase, flowing up and down in a   
rollicking sea-chantey. Almost lost in the recording, some of the   
patrons at the pub who knew the words to the song added their bit.   
The   
dulcimer threw in extra notes wherever there was room to spare, and   
ChibiUsa could not imagine how anyone's hands could move so fast.  
  
While the dulcimer carried the tune the two violins performed a   
merry dogfight all through the surrounding key and beyond, circling   
each other in cockeyed harmonies, one holding a long, building high   
note, the other reeling off a variation of the main tune, going   
faster   
and faster as drum and dulcimer egged them on as in a schoolyard   
dare.   
No one was playing the same thing, but it all somehow held together,   
orderly despite the chaos. One wrong step, one miscalculation, and it   
would all fall apart, and that made the music come alive.  
  
Four, sharp, short, notes. All instruments hit them firmly, as   
one, then each skirled off once more, faster and yet faster, carrying   
everyone around them skywards. One more time--four, sharp, short,   
notes--one last flourish on the dulcimer, and they all landed lightly   
back down to earth.  
  
The two girls joined in with the raucous applause and hollering   
on the recording.  
  
ChibiUsa couldn't even say anything. She could only grin like   
an   
idiot, laughing and clapping. Oh, if only she could dance the way the   
music made her want to dance!  
  
Hotaru looked smug, proud, and more than anything else, happy.  
  
"I wish I'd been there," ChibiUsa finally said. "I never knew   
Michiru played anything like that!"  
  
"I just wish she'd play like that more often! She told me that   
none of that was rehearsed, that they were all able to read each   
other   
as they played. She's as good as she always was, but I don't know...   
it's almost like she doesn't like playing any more."   
  
The joy of the moment faded away into the overly-sweet ballad   
on   
the next track. Hotaru rolled over and put her hands behind her head.   
She stared up at the ceiling, tilting her head this way and that as   
if   
studying some invisible painting. "Actually, it might just be the   
stuff   
that they're making her play in school."  
  
"What kind of stuff?" asked ChibiUsa.  
  
"Her advisor's having her play all of these weird pieces,   
things   
that are based on a twelve-note scale. She says that it's more like   
doing math than playing music."  
  
"Ew!"  
  
"No kidding! All he cares about is the politics of the music,   
or   
how it 'deconstructs traditional and commonplace ideas of music in a   
deliberate attempt to alienate the listener.' Haruka-papa says that   
the   
composer probably just kicked a bag full of cats down the stairs and   
wrote down the notes."  
  
ChibiUsa mulled that over. "I don't get it. Why play music that   
nobody likes? Michiru plays better than anyone else I've ever heard,   
so   
why doesn't she just quit college, if she's not happy?"  
  
"You sound just like Haruka-papa," Hotaru said. She sounded   
awfully gloomy. Although it was still light out, Hotaru's room had   
grown noticeably darker over the past hour. Hotaru looked out the   
window, then checked her watch. "Let's go outside," she said. "It's   
too   
nice to be in here. Maybe we can dig out the croquet set or   
something."  
  
ChibiUsa followed her out of the room. "But won't it be too   
dark?"  
  
"Nah. It won't be full dark until after nine."  
  
The door to Setsuna's room was open, spilling golden light into   
the hallway. As they approached, they could hear the steady clackety-  
clack of Setsuna's fingers on her keyboard. Hotaru stopped and poked   
her head into the room.  
  
"Setsuna-mama, ChibiUsa-chan and I are going outside for a bit,   
in case anyone's looking for us."  
  
"Mmm-hmm." Clack-click-clackety.  
  
Hotaru looked over her shoulder at ChibiUsa and rolled her   
eyes.   
She looked back into Setsuna's room. "We're going to go out and get   
our   
tongues pierced, okay?"  
  
ChibiUsa stifled a snort of laughter.  
  
"Uh-huh. Don't forget that the Tsukinos are picking up ChibiUsa   
at nine." Clickety-click-click-clack.  
  
The two girls headed back down the hallway. "Unbelievable,"   
Hotaru muttered.  
  
  
# # #  
  
  
Setsuna scrolled up several pages and added a sentence to   
explain   
who Cerelia was. She sighed. This was taking much longer than she'd   
anticipated. Every time she remembered one thing, she found another   
hundred memories lurking behind it. By the time she was done, this   
thing would be as long as The Tale of Genji, War and Peace, and the   
collected works of Charles Dickens all rolled into one.  
  
Ami had better appreciate just how much of a nuisance this was.   
Happy memories of sunny days and centuries of bliss were one thing.   
Trying to sort through thousands of years of intertwining history,   
romance, and tragedy was something else altogether. It was like   
working   
on what you thought was a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, only to find   
that not only was there no picture, but that it was a ten-thousand   
piece, two-sided, possibly three-dimensional puzzle, with the missing   
pieces being delivered on the installment plan.  
  
She scrolled back down and whacked away at the keyboard,   
wishing   
she could be writing about leptons and tachyons and bosons, oh my.   
  
Stupid project. Stupid memories. Stupid past.  
  
Why so bitter, Setsuna? she asked herself. This project sounded   
like fun when you first started it.  
  
Because my eyes feel like they've been pickled from staring at   
this screen all day long, she thought. Plus, every minute spent   
working   
on this memoir meant one minute less she had to work on that report   
that was due on Monday.   
  
No, it wasn't just that. She was drawing unavoidably closer to   
the time when Hyperion had... died, and she had been sealed as the   
Senshi of Time.   
  
After that, there was little to tell. Just millions of years as   
Senshi of a barren, frozen planet. She was to be forever confined to   
the Gates of Time. She looked forward to her occasional visitors, but   
after a while, their visits only helped to remind her how lonely she   
was. She could, of course, walk the halls of Charon Castle, but after   
the first few centuries, that became nothing more than trying to   
relieve endless monotony with excruciating dullness. Then, after the   
fall of the Glaive, she didn't even have the dubious joy of visiting   
her Castle.  
  
Sailor Pluto. There was the crux of the problem. Setsuna rubbed   
her eyes, half-surprised that they didn't crumble to bits. The others   
always seemed to think of her as the stalwart, faithful guardian,   
serving uncomplainingly at the Gates. Although they never came out   
and   
asked her directly, she knew that the others wondered what she knew   
of   
their future.  
  
Nothing. Nothing other than that bright spot of rosy-pink and   
joy   
and boundless curiosity that one day wandered into her domain,   
looking   
for a friend. Small Lady blundered into her life, and it was as if a   
million years of sorrow and solitude just fell away.   
  
In that little girl, she saw the red, resolute eyes of   
Hyperion.   
She saw the eternal spring that was echoed in Rosamund's pink hair   
and   
quicksilver moods. And then, more than anything, she saw the   
sweetness   
and goodness of Serenity--not this strange new queen of an unknown   
new   
kingdom, but the great-hearted woman to whom she had been servant,   
advisor, confidante, and friend.  
  
In the end, Small Lady had managed not only to bring an end to   
her loneliness, but through her actions, had led to the former   
Pluto's   
rebirth as Setsuna Meiou.  
  
And there was the other problem. Not Small Lady--though   
something   
about that had been bothering her since she began this memoir--but   
the   
fact that she was no longer what she had once been. If she was to be   
true to the facts in this memoir, she would have to explain her own   
role in the events leading up to the fall of the Silver Millennium.  
  
She may as well start packing her bags, she thought.  
  
Oh, now *that* was just silly! Setsuna closed her eyes and took   
a   
deep breath. The Senshi were her friends--the very best friends she   
had   
*ever* had. The younger Senshi had been there when she had broken all   
three of her sacred rules, and they did not think any less of her for   
it. They had been sorry when she died. A young girl she had once   
planned to kill now called her 'Mama,' knocking away yet another   
chunk   
of that eternal loneliness. Her friends would not mind that she had   
once been 'other.' They would not mind that her sealing was meant as   
a   
disgrace, not an honor.  
  
That didn't mean it would be pleasant or even easy to talk   
about.   
  
It had only been in the past two years that she even felt   
comfortable talking to Haruka and Michiru about the time when she was   
just Setsuna Meiou and not Sailor Pluto. Maybe it was because those   
two   
had been treated as 'other' that she had finally ventured to tell   
them   
a little of what it was like to grow up in a mixed-race family, being   
neither truly Japanese nor truly Latino. Whether she was with her   
father's family or her mother's, she was always the alien, the odd   
one,   
the misfit.  
  
Even now, the playground taunts would sometimes sting like tiny   
thorns in the heart. Sometimes, she wished she had just a little bit   
of   
Haruka's 'screw you' attitude towards those who would looked down   
upon   
others for being different. Maybe it would have been better than   
teaching herself how to become aloof and distant, turning her   
otherness   
from inferiority to superiority, transforming herself from misfit   
into   
mystery.  
  
Oh, enough of that, already! There were other things far more   
important than getting all mopey over her past. She was writing this   
memoir so that the others could try to figure out what on earth had   
been going on lately. Then, there were some other things that she   
needed to mention the next time she saw the others.  
  
For one thing, she still couldn't figure out what it was she'd   
sensed the night of Usagi's party. She *knew* she knew what it was,   
but   
that knowledge stayed just out of reach, like a name on the tip of   
her   
tongue.  
  
They also needed to find out more about this 'Sailor Sun'   
character. Once she remembered what the Eunomia had done with the   
original Sailor Saturn, the idea of a Sailor Sun made even less   
sense.   
She started typing in a stream of sentence fragments, trying to get   
down every little bit of information as quickly as she could. As far   
as   
she knew, no one other than a privileged few knew of the Silence   
Glaive, and of the little... twist that had been given to Saturn's   
original Senshi nature.  
  
This could be a problem. Setsuna had absolutely no idea how   
Hotaru would react to that little tidbit of historical fact. These   
days, even a simple 'how was school today?' might set off a full-  
blown   
attack of the surlies.  
  
Hotaru. Setsuna winced in disgust as she thought about her own   
little pity-party. She was not the only one with a bitter past.   
Hotaru's otherness had been far more than being only half-Japanese.   
Sometimes Hotaru seemed so adult that it was easy to believe that she   
had been able to shrug off all of the abuse heaped on her by   
Kaorinite,   
by her father, by classmates who had shunned her for her healing   
touch.   
  
How many thorns had left their sting in Hotaru's heart?  
  
Speaking of which, did Hotaru just ask her something, or was   
she   
imagining things?  
  
It was definitely time for a break.  
  
  
# # #  
  
  
"This is my favorite time of day. The in-between time," said   
Hotaru. She lay back onto the cool, neatly clipped grass. She was   
wearing a tank top and shorts, and the cut tips of the grass prickled   
against her skin. The sky was still red and gold to the west of them,   
but to the east, the sky was a rich, slate blue that seemed to glow   
with its own light. Once, she had told Setsuna-mama that she wanted a   
dress in that color, but when the color was trapped and put into   
fabric, it just wasn't the same. She could see the red and white   
blinking lights of distant jet liners, and the warm, steady glow of   
one   
of the planets, bright enough to shine against the still-light   
western   
sky.  
  
ChibiUsa remained sitting, but leaned her head back so she   
could   
look up at the sky. In the deepening twilight, her hair had become a   
deep rose in color. She was gazing curiously at the one steady light.  
  
"Venus," said Hotaru, answering her friend's unspoken question.   
  
ChibiUsa let out a thoughtful sigh, then leaned back onto her   
elbows, still gazing out at the distant planet. "It's hard to believe   
that you used to be able to look out there and say, 'hey, there are   
people out there, living on that little light. I wonder what they're   
doing right now.'"  
  
"It looks so fragile," Hotaru said, almost in a whisper. "It   
looks like you could blow it out with one breath."   
  
She pursed her lips and blew, just as she had done when blowing   
out the candles on the dinner table. Was there anyone else who   
understood just how fragile everything really was?  
  
"Did you ever go to Venus? Back then, I mean. It's not like   
there's anything there *now*." said ChibiUsa.  
  
No. Of course there wasn't. Hotaru shrugged, and the grass   
tickled her shoulders. "Maybe. I don't remember much."  
  
What she did remember was already too much as it was. She   
remembered the crystal clarity of awakening as Sailor Saturn, and   
the inevitable downward swipe of the Silence Glaive. She remembered   
gasping in awe as the Solar System twisted and writhed under her   
power. How small it had looked and how fragile... how very, very   
fragile. She remembered exactly how she felt as planet after planet   
was blasted clean of life and Earth was sent into a deep, killing   
winter before she herself was swallowed up by destruction.  
  
Sailor Saturn never felt remorse. She had a job, and she did   
it well. She knew what her purpose was.  
  
There had to be more to it than that, thought Hotaru Tomoe.   
That can't be the only reason I was reborn. Why did that have to   
fall to me? Her eyes squeezed shut, and tears stung at the corners.  
  
What kind of monster would *enjoy* what I did so much?  
  
"Hotaru-chan? What's wrong?" asked ChibiUsa.  
  
Hotaru gulped back a sob. Why did ChibiUsa have to sound so   
concerned, so loving?  
  
"Did I say something wrong?"  
  
Hotaru rolled her head violently from side to side in denial,   
tears burning their way down her cheeks. No, ChibiUsa-chan. You   
could never do anything wrong. Never. Not you.  
  
"I'm the one who's wrong," she whispered. "Everything.   
Everything about me is wrong! I shouldn't even *be* here!"  
  
"Hotaru-chan!" ChibiUsa sounded like she was on the verge of   
panic. "Don't say that! I missed you while I was gone! You're the   
best friend I've ever had! How can you say you shouldn't be here?"  
  
ChibiUsa grabbed onto both of Hotaru's wrists and hauled her   
upright. Hotaru tried to tell her that she was all right, but one   
look into those worried, anxious, loving eyes, and the lie died   
before it could pass her lips.  
  
The next thing she knew, she had slumped forward, sobbing, her   
face buried in ChibiUsa's hair.  
  
"It hurts," she whispered. "Knowing what I am."  
  
The fear that one day, she would once again have to watch a   
world flicker and fade into smoke and darkness. Sometimes she could   
see that fear in her foster-parents' eyes, those times when the   
ancient Senshi within her stirred restlessly.  
  
She pushed back from ChibiUsa and looked up, scowling, at the   
sky. More stars had come out, and they wavered and refracted in her   
tear-blurred vision. They had wavered and refracted that way once   
before, a long, long time ago.  
  
"I hate it! I've always wanted to be a nurse. I *heal* people   
for crying out loud!" No matter how hard she tried she could not   
keep her voice from cracking and coming out in a pathetic little   
squeak. "Everyone else fits the role they were given--Ami, Rei,   
Haruka-papa, Michiru-mama--everyone! Everyone but me! It's not fair!   
Did I do something so terrible and wrong and evil, that they made me   
the destroyer?"  
  
ChibiUsa rubbed her back gently. She seemed to understand that   
Hotaru didn't want anyone to try to cheer her up or tell her that   
everything was going to be all right. Hotaru hated it when people   
told her lies.  
  
After a little while, ChibiUsa handed her a handkerchief.   
Hotaru saw the little bunny-face embroidered on the corner and   
laughed. She couldn't help it. There was just something about the   
idea of the Destroyer of Worlds blowing her nose on something that   
had a cartoon rabbit on it.  
  
"You're not evil, Hotaru-chan. There's other things you're   
good at. You're the one who realized that the Ceres and the others   
were Senshi, and not the enemy after all."  
  
Yeah. Whatever. She didn't even know how she'd done that. If   
anything, it was as if the Glaive had recognized the four Amazons   
for what they were and communicated that information to her.  
  
She heard the back door open and shut, then soft footsteps   
across the back lawn.  
  
"Mind if I join you two?" Setsuna asked.  
  
Thank heavens she was over the worst of her crying spell. What   
on earth had brought that on? She could hardly remember. Hopefully,   
Setsuna-mama wouldn't...  
  
"Hotaru-chan? Have you been *crying*?"  
  
...notice. "I'd rather not talk about it," Hotaru said   
automatically.  
  
Setsuna did not ask 'are you sure?' but her eyes darkened and   
her smile faded just a bit. "I needed a break, so I thought I'd   
come out here with you two for a while. Scoot."  
  
The two girls inched apart so Setsuna could sit between them.  
  
As the sky grew darker, the three of them sat silently,   
looking up at the stars.  
  
"Setsuna-mama, what do you know about Saturn?" Hotaru asked,   
extinguishing the silence. "The role, not the planet, I mean."  
  
"I know that Saturn was to be the Senshi of ruin and rebirth,"   
Setsuna said. Hotaru could hear the hesitation in her voice, as if   
she was carefully considering each word before she spoke.  
  
Please don't lie to me, Setsuna-mama. Please don't try to make   
me feel better.  
  
"Now, do I know what that means? Not exactly." She was quiet   
again, speaking only when Hotaru began to shift restlessly. "As I'm   
writing all of these memories down, I'm finding out just how much I   
*don't* understand. I only met your former self once, when I was   
there for her investiture as Saturn..." She was silent again, but   
this was the silence of thought.  
  
"Puu? Is something wrong?" asked ChibiUsa.  
  
"N-no. I just remembered something that struck me as odd, but   
I'm probably misremembering. Anyhow, what I do know is that your--  
that Saturn's--mother was nearly as powerful as Serenity herself.   
There was some question as to whether Saturn should have a Senshi or   
not. The lady Demeter was not only powerful, but her husband was of   
the royal family of Earth." Setsuna raised one eyebrow and turned to   
Hotaru. "In other words, your former self was first cousin to Prince   
Endymion."  
  
"No way!" ChibiUsa gasped.  
  
Hotaru shivered. Not an unpleasant shiver, but goose bumps all   
the same.  
  
"I think," Setsuna continued, again scrutinizing each word she   
said, "that may have been why they--the Eunomia, I mean--entrusted   
the Silence Glaive to Sailor Saturn. She had ties to both the Golden   
Kingdom and the Silver Millennium. It may also have been that   
Saturn's powers were somehow...compatible...with the Glaive."  
  
"Great," Hotaru snapped. "Not only do they make me the Senshi   
of Destruction, they also hand me the Giant Can Opener of Doom and   
give me the worst job in the universe! Why couldn't they have just   
left me alone?"  
  
Setsuna remained silent, her eyes downcast.  
  
"But Saturn's supposed to be the Senshi of rebirth, not just   
ruin, right?" asked ChibiUsa, anxious to make things better. "Maybe   
she was supposed to have super healing powers or something. It would   
make sense, wouldn't it, if the Senshi were always going into   
battle?"  
  
"In those days, whatever the Eunomia declared was law,"   
Setsuna said, so softly they could barely hear. "Something was   
decreed, and it simply *was.* You could no more rebel against their   
law than you could ignore the law of gravity."  
  
Setsuna shook slightly, and seemed to remember where she was.   
"Hotaru-chan, there's more to you than destruction, please believe   
that." She reached out and cupped Hotaru's cheek in one dark, warm   
hand, and brushed away a tear with her thumb. "Can you believe   
that?"  
  
Hotaru nodded. A few more tears leaked out. "I think so."  
  
ChibiUsa got to her hands and knees and scuttled around to   
Hotaru's other side. She gave Hotaru a rib-cracking squeeze. "Well,"   
she said cheerfully, "I *know* so, so that's that!"  
  
"And if her Highness says it's so, then it must be so," said   
Setsuna. "Shall we continue this inside? Over ice-cream?"  
  
  
# # #  
  
  
Setsuna smiled as the two girls raced each other back to the   
house. Then, as she thought about Hotaru, a knot of worry formed in   
her stomach.  
  
She'd been right to worry about the girl. Although destruction   
was a part of Saturn's makeup, it wasn't the main part, or at least   
it wasn't supposed to be.  
  
Haruka's question from the other day came back to twist a   
knife in her side. Why hadn't she said anything about her memories   
before now?  
  
Because she was a coward who was too worried about what the   
others would think of her, that's why. Besides, none of it had   
seemed important. It was just history.  
  
No longer. She would continue to dig through her memories,   
even if it meant staying up all night, even if meant having to take   
an incomplete on this quantum paper.  
  
Her former self might have deserved to suffer at the hands of   
the Eunomia, but Hotaru Tomoe didn't. She had already suffered too   
much in this life.  
  
From now on, no detail would be unimportant or insignificant.   
When she went back to her computer, she would write down everything   
she could remember about Saturn's investiture. What had been said.   
What had been done. What everything looked like.  
  
She would write down every question that occurred to her. Why   
did the Glaive go to Saturn? Were Saturn's attributes ever defined?   
She would also try to figure out what was bothering her about   
Saturn's investiture. The fuku color was totally different, for one   
thing, but something else nagged at her, something that she couldn't   
quite put her finger on.  
  
Whatever it was, chances were it was completely unimportant,   
but she did not have the luxury of making that assumption.  
  
  
  
9:17 p.m.  
  
  
Taiyouko bit into her second chocolate macaroon and watched   
the afternoon's events zip by in fast forward. The rash of   
burglaries in the area five years ago actually had a nice little   
after-effect--security cameras in every hallway of her building.  
  
The building super knew she was police. Of course he was   
willing to let her take a look at that afternoon's tapes. No   
problem! No questions! All she had to do was to put the tapes back   
when she was done. This was almost *too* easy.  
  
She felt a twinge of guilt, but she tried to push it aside.   
This was research, wasn't it? This was related--sort of--to a case   
she'd been officially assigned.  
  
She cued the tape to the moment when Wright arrived at Kino's   
door, right on schedule. Kino opened the door, and her goggle-eyed   
expression of shock and surprise was the sort of thing that   
professional comedians spent hours trying to perfect.   
  
She tsk-tsked, but couldn't help smiling. Wright's face was   
not visible from that angle, but Kino was sure giving him the old   
elevator eye.  
  
She rewound the tape and watched the scene again. Wright was   
startled, but was that because the wrong person had answered the   
door or because he recognized her? All Jason had said when he came   
up was that he'd met one of her neighbors and that she seemed like a   
nice girl. Nice, indeed. These macaroons were delicious.  
  
Wright followed Kino into the apartment. Taiyouko watched the   
time-stamp on the tape. He stayed in there for exactly three minutes   
and twenty-seven seconds. Not bad. Just enough time for a little   
chit-chat and to pick up some nummy macaroons. When they re-emerged,   
the two of them were still chatting, and Wright was considerate   
enough to be facing the camera. Hmm. He seemed pretty cheerful. So   
did Kino.  
  
Well, she wouldn't be too surprised if Wright pumped her for   
some more information later on. It would also be interesting to see   
if Kino managed to waylay her in the stairwell in the next day or   
two.  
  
And what's this? Her little ruse had worked even better than   
she had hoped! Two of Chiba's other girlfriends had shown up. This   
might actually be worth lending Akiko that new Teresa Wentzler   
pattern before she'd had a chance to work it herself.  
  
Interesting... Wright was *not* happy to see the others. The   
eyes narrowed, the smile turned nervous, and he kept looking   
longingly at the stairwell. No, not happy at all. Even so, he had   
somehow managed to calm himself down by the time he made it up to   
her apartment. Too bad there was no sound on these tapes.  
  
Once Wright to broke free, he practically *ran* for the   
stairs. Oh, and Kino looked *pissed.* Taiyouko chuckled and grabbed   
a third macaroon. The odds of Kino 'accidentally' bumping into her   
had just gotten better.  
  
She rewound the tape a bit so she could study the reactions of   
two other girls--she'd have to get their names from Kino. That   
shouldn't be a problem, especially if Kino approached her for   
information about Wright. Quid pro quo, as they say.  
  
The girl with the short blue hair looked like the kind who   
could fade into the background at will, and she seemed to waffle   
between self-assuredness and painful shyness. Her uniform was the   
same as the one she'd seen Kino in. Juuban High, then.  
  
The one with the long violet-black hair was a real beauty,   
with an air of intensity that was almost tangible. Her uniform was a   
gray on gray number that was unusually elegant for a school uniform-  
-something from a private school? One of Keisuke's kids could   
probably tell her where it was from.  
  
Hmm. The intense one did a slight double-take, then shook her   
head almost imperceptibly, as if she'd been hit with a case of dŽja-  
vu. Other than that, she couldn't tell if they'd reacted to Wright   
in any way other than just scoping him out.  
  
Oh, how pathetic, she grumbled. Just look at her. Spying on a   
trio of teenaged girls. Maybe the onset of 'the change' was making   
her paranoid, but still...  
  
She rubbed her eyes. Too many connections. An old case gets   
handed back to her, and it ends up that the central figure in the   
case has a web of connections to one of her oldest friends, to her   
neighbor, to her on-the-job baby-sitting case, and--if this whatsis   
living in her mind could be trusted--to her.  
  
"You know," she said to the lurker, "this had better turn out   
to be worth the trouble. Also, once you've finished this whatever-  
it-is you botched the first time around, I'm expecting you to pack   
your bags and head back to the depths of my subconscious mind, you   
understand?"  
  
Whatever, the voice grumbled. Now that it was picking up on   
her own vocal mannerisms, Taiyouko didn't actively resent its   
presence quite so much.  
  
"I hope you tell me what this is all about," said Taiyouko.   
"Anyhow, since you seem to be taking up residence for the   
foreseeable future, how about giving me your name--and don't start   
with that 'I am you' crap."  
  
Silence. It was an embarrassed silence, though.  
  
"Great! First Chiba, now you," Taiyouko snapped, picking up on   
the cause of the lurker's frustration. "What is this? Amnesiacs   
Pride Month?" Taiyouko took a large bite out of the last macaroon.  
  
I was supposed to protect someone, the lurker said. Someone   
important. Then I was supposed to go away. I didn't ask to be here.  
  
"But something went wrong," Taiyouko said, almost gently. The   
poor thing almost sounded depressed. "That person is still in   
danger, right?"  
  
No. I don't think so. This is something bigger. Much bigger.   
Justice has been broken. Something has been left undone.  
  
"Well, you're a clever figment of my imagination. You'll   
figure it out," said Taiyouko, trying to be soothing despite the   
chill that just ran down her spine. "Now be a good disembodied voice   
and pack it in for the night. I want to work on my stitching and   
watch some game shows."  
  
The lurker indicated that it really, really wanted a   
cigarette.  
  
"You and me both," said Taiyouko.  
  
  
  
10:02 p.m.  
  
  
Sailors Venus and Mercury hid behind a billboard on the roof of   
an office building. Mercury typed a few commands into her computer,   
snapped it shut, then slid it back into its sub-space pocket.  
  
"Nothing, huh?"  
  
"I'm afraid so," said Mercury. "For all we know, that golem   
could   
have been a one-time occurrence."  
  
"But what about those crystal thingies from Hotaru's golem?"  
  
Mercury shrugged. She'd had to scrap her initial theory--that   
their blue glow was a reflection of her own power aura--when the   
crystals turned out to glow the same shades of blue for Rei, Makoto,   
Minako, and Usagi. When she'd shown them to Motoki and Unazuki,   
however, there was no glow whatsoever.  
  
"I haven't finished analyzing them. They don't appear to have   
any   
power of their own. The glow appears to be a reaction to our powers,   
but I don't see what purpose that would serve."  
  
Venus was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her tone   
was   
unusually serious. "Mercury, you said yourself that those crystals   
have   
the same structure as the Ginzuishou. You can't tell me that you   
*really* believe this was just a 'one-time occurrence'."  
  
No, she didn't believe it, but she had allowed herself to hope   
it. Facing the occasional monster or criminal was one thing. Getting   
involved in another long, drawn-out campaign against a strong, well-  
organized enemy was another. Every year, almost like clockwork, they   
had to gather together against a new threat. Each time, the stakes   
were   
greater, and the odds were stacked ever higher against them. Just   
thinking about it left her exhausted and queasy.  
  
She shouldn't have been surprised that Venus was so quick to   
come   
to the conclusion she'd been trying to avoid. Minako couldn't get her   
kanji right to save her life, and her study habits were beyond   
atrocious, but she was no dummy. On the volleyball court and in   
battle,   
she demonstrated an innate tactical genius--when she kept her   
impulsiveness in check, that is.  
  
Mercury took a deep breath, forcing herself to envision the   
feelings of futility and fatigue draining out of her body and   
evaporating into the air. She had a job to do, and part of that job   
was   
playing strategist to Venus's tactician and helping to curb that   
impulsive streak.  
  
"If we *do* find a golem, try to give me a few seconds before   
you   
destroy it. If I can capture an image of the symbol on its forehead,   
I   
should be able to learn more about whoever it is that's making them."   
Mercury sighed and leaned back against the billboard. "If we *are*   
facing a new enemy, I wish they'd come out and give us some idea of   
what they're after."  
  
"Well, if they follow the norm," said Venus, ticking off   
options   
on her fingers, "there's general energy-suckage, stealing the   
Ginzuishou or other crystals, taking over the world, and/or turning   
Mamoru-kun into a brainwashed love-slave. Am I leaving anything out?"  
  
"Minako-chan!" She wasn't sure if she should be outraged, or   
grateful for the distraction.  
  
Venus waggled her finger under Mercury's nose. "No civilian   
names!" she chided in a sing-song voice. "Remember, loose lips sank   
the   
Titanic."  
  
"No, it was an iceberg, remember? You saw the movie at least   
eight times."  
  
"Oh, silly me! I meant the Lusitania, not the Titanic! Am I out   
of it tonight or what?" She winked at Mercury and giggled.  
  
Mercury just shook her head, her chest shaking with silent   
laughter. She often wondered if Venus deliberately mangled metaphors   
and spliced together sayings. Her mother was always asking her if   
she'd   
heard any new 'Minakoisms' lately.  
  
Venus flipped her hair back from her face. "By the way, I meant   
to ask you--was it just me or was Mako-chan in one heck of a foul   
mood   
this afternoon?"  
  
"I'm afraid so. Rei and I showed up earlier than planned, and   
we   
kind of interrupted Mako-chan when she was talking with a visitor."  
  
"A visitor?" Only Venus could turn a completely innocent word   
into a single-entendre. "Was he cute?"  
  
Of course Venus would assume it was a 'he.' Mercury made a   
noncommittal sound, a sort of hesitant yes. That stranger *was* cute.   
Not only that, but something about him reminded her of her former   
self's lover. Lately, though, given the intensity of her dreams, any   
blond-haired blue eyed man would make her think of Ikarus.  
  
Ha! These days, even calculus problems made her think of   
Ikarus!   
If Minako found out about these racy dreams of hers, she might as   
well   
end it all now. She didn't know which would be worse--being   
interrogated and pressed for all the juicy details, or subjected to   
speculation on juicy details that Minako would think up on her own.  
  
If only the dreams weren't so vivid! All of the senses were   
there, and Ami was trapped in Egeria's body throughout the course of   
the dream. The dreams themselves were... well... enjoyable. She was   
human, after all. But the more she dreamed, the more she had to   
wonder   
how much of what she thought of as her 'self' was Egeria and how much   
was original material, so to speak.   
  
It was hard not to feel like some sort of pathetic voyeur.   
  
It was also hard not to feel jealous--why was Egeria able to   
have   
what she herself did not? She could also not escape the fact that the   
leap in her heart she felt when Ikarus appeared in her dreams was in   
her *own* heart, not just Egeria's. Even with all the qualms and   
scruples, something about this memory-ghost felt comfortable.   
Comfortable and *right*.  
  
"From the way you're blushing, I'm guessing he was *very*   
cute."   
Venus slapped her fist into the palm of her hand. "Figures that I'd   
miss it! No wonder Mako-chan didn't want to head out tonight--she's   
probably trying to figure out a way to hook up with the cutie!"  
  
Mercury did not want to talk about the American. She couldn't   
figure out why, but something about him made her feel profoundly   
uncomfortable, even if he did remind her of Ikarus. She'd felt an   
almost staggering sense of relief when he'd dashed off.  
  
"I'm glad you said something about going out tonight," she   
said.   
She wasn't going to wait until she could change the subject more   
smoothly. "If there are more golems out there, I'd like to see one   
before it becomes a pile of dust."  
  
"I just hope we can find a couple for you to research," said   
Venus. There was nothing light or bubbly in that phrase at all. In   
fact, there was an unfamiliar note of steel in Venus's voice. Mercury   
had a pretty good idea what her hopes for the evening were.  
  
It had been a long time since a 'girl's night out' had been for   
anything other than general goofing around or merrily bringing the   
random street criminal to justice. Maybe that's why Venus's predatory   
tone took her by surprise.  
  
Or maybe...  
  
"Have you had any more dreams about the past?" Mercury asked.   
Too   
bad she hadn't yet encountered the Silver Millennium Venus in her   
dreams. "I--"  
  
She was cut off by a tiny pinging from her earpiece. She tapped   
her earring to lower her visor.  
  
"Energy burst, three o' clock! Let's go!"  
  
She jumped to her feet and took a running leap to the opposite   
rooftop, Venus close behind her.  
  
"Three o' clock? That thing can tell the future?" demanded   
Venus.  
  
"Oh, never mind! Just follow me!" Mercury took the lead as they   
tore across the Tokyo skyline. When they ran out of roofline, they   
wove   
through alleys and side streets, doing their best to avoid crowds.  
  
"Do you know where we're going?" Venus panted.  
  
"Uh-huh." Downloading maps of the city into the computer had   
certainly paid off.  
  
Her earpiece pinged again, but she didn't need it--a muffled   
explosion and a glowing column of oily smoke told the girls where   
they   
needed to go.  
  
"The junkyard!" shouted Venus. She took off, outpacing Mercury   
easily.  
  
Mercury muttered something impolite and sped up, hoping that   
Venus didn't do anything rash. She breathed a little easier when she   
saw Venus waiting for her by the junkyard gates.  
  
"Sorry 'bout that," Venus said. She peered through the fence.   
Whatever had exploded--diesel fuel from the smell of it--was still   
burning. If there were golems or worse, they would have to take care   
of   
it before anyone called the fire station or the police. "It looks   
pretty qui--"  
  
Venus shrieked as something large crashed into the cyclone   
fence,   
right in front of her face.  
  
The black, furry mass clung to the fence for a moment, then   
crumpled to the ground.  
  
"Oh God..." Venus whimpered. "Is it..."  
  
Mercury crouched down to look at the dog. She didn't need her   
computer to tell her that the Akita was dead. "I'm afraid so. I only   
hope it was quick," she said, her voice shaking.   
  
The two of them jumped up to the top of the fence. The clatter   
of   
the fence wires sounded unnaturally loud.  
  
"Why would someone kill an innocent dog?" Venus whispered.  
  
"Probably to keep it from barking," Mercury said. She prayed   
that   
the watchdog was the sole extent of the junkyard's night security.   
She   
nodded to one side of the junkyard, the part that seemed to be home   
to   
junked cars and defunct construction equipment. "My visor's picking   
up   
some motion from over there," she whispered.  
  
They heard the crash of metal against metal. Venus pointed.   
Even   
in the darkness, Mercury could now see two huge shapes moving through   
the scrap. They moved quickly, throwing aside huge piles of debris,   
crushing oil barrels, cinder blocks, and old packing crates beneath   
their feet. They looked like gingerbread men shaped by a sociopathic   
kindergartener. Massive torsos sat on stumpy, uneven legs. The huge   
clay arms were so long that the ends would drag on the ground   
whenever   
the golems weren't using them to scythe piles of junk out of their   
way.   
  
The head of the smaller golem, with its gouged-out eyes and   
screaming, silent mouth, sat directly on its trunk. On the larger   
one,   
an eyeless head lolled almost all the way off its left shoulder, as   
if   
whoever had shaped it had just stuck it on randomly.  
  
"Ugly buggers," Venus growled. Her lips were pulled back from   
her   
teeth in a literal snarl. "Dog killers!"  
  
With a savage yell, she leapt down from the fence. The larger   
of   
the two golems charged straight at her.  
  
So much for keeping her in check! Mercury jumped down, hoping   
to   
draw the smaller golem's attention away from Venus. She danced out of   
its way, keeping her gaze on it at all times. Her computer had better   
be getting all of this!  
  
"Crescent Beam!"  
  
The ray of golden light punched clean through the mark on the   
larger golem's forehead. It exploded into dust.  
  
Venus jammed a fist up into the air. "Awesome! Just like on   
'Buffy'!"  
  
Mercury was not doing as well with the smaller golem. She did   
a back handspring out of its way, barely dodging a vicious uppercut.   
How could something made of dirt be so fast?  
  
"Venus! I need some help with this one!"  
  
She called up a fog, but it didn't even slow the thing down   
for a second! The tiny part of her mind that remained an objective   
observer made a mental note to look into how these things sensed the   
world around them. The dominant, more terrified part of her mind   
scrambled to find some way she could adapt her powers to the kind of   
precision strike needed to stop these things!  
  
The golem barreled into a tower of junked cars, sending them   
toppling towards Mercury. Mercury jumped clear, only to be stung by   
a barrage of shattered glass. The golem kept coming, crunching   
through the fallen cars as if they were nothing but tissue.  
  
An Aqua Rhapsody knocked it off its feet, but it got right   
back up again. Mercury blasted it again and ran. This was no good--  
her attacks only bought her a second or two at most and the golem   
was gaining on her.  
  
"VENUS!"   
  
Come on, come on, dust this thing already!  
  
She jumped out of hitting range and blasted the golem with a   
Shabon Spray Freezing. Flash-freezing slowed the golem down, but not   
enough!  
  
"Mercury! Where are you? I can't see y...oh, shit! Crescent   
Beam!"   
  
Mercury heard the familiar whine of Venus's attack followed by   
a clatter of gravel. How many golems *were* there in this place?  
  
"Just listen for the crashes and the screaming!" Mercury   
yelled. She took off towards the heart of the junkyard, relying on   
her visor to keep track of the golem chasing after her. She dodged   
around a junked semi cab and grinned as the golem swung wide,   
leaving itself open for another blast. These things might be fast,   
but they were not built for maneuverability.  
  
"Mercury! Mercury, where are you!" Venus called out   
frantically from somewhere nearby, but not nearby enough!  
  
"Over here!" Her plan was working. She had gained ground. If   
she could just buy herself little more time--just enough for Venus   
to get to her. She snapped a command to her visor, telling it to   
scan for anything she could use as a projectile or a lance. If worse   
came to worse, she'd have to go hand to head with the thing and hope   
for the best.  
  
Mercury dashed down a narrow pathway between two huge debris-  
filled dumpsters, using a precious two seconds to turn and fire off   
another Shabon Spray Freezing. Come on! Get angry at me! Come on!   
Chase me!  
  
If it was as unthinking as it seemed, it would tear through   
the dumpsters to follow her, and that might hold it for as much as a   
minute.  
  
Or not. Mercury winced as she heard the screech of sheet metal   
being ripped apart like cardboard. She turned and fired off another   
attack to keep her lead, but she could feel herself getting weaker.  
  
"Venus! Where are you!"  
  
"Plasma Flare!"  
  
Even before Mercury could realize what she had heard, the air   
shimmered and warped as a blast of searing heat slammed into the   
golem. Its legs and one arm shattered as it fell to the ground and a   
huge crack zigzagged across its chest.  
  
What on earth...? Yes, her repeated attacks would have super-  
cooled the golem, so no wonder it broke so easily after such an   
impressive infusion of heat. But where did that heat-blast come   
from?  
  
She heard Venus call out again, much closer this time. Mercury   
gasped for breath, not just because of her close call, but because   
the lingering heat and smell of scorched metal made it like being in   
the middle of a foundry.  
  
The golem tried to get up, but it had no legs, and wound up   
just flopping over on its back. One of the detached legs flexed and   
kicked as if it were still attached to the body.  
  
Venus leapt over the wrecked dumpsters to land beside Mercury.   
"Okay, that leg twitching thing is just gross." She brushed glass   
shards off of Mercury's collar and out of her hair, and gave her a   
quick, critical once-over. "Are you all right?"  
  
Mercury nodded. Still panting, she pulled out her computer and   
let it scan for crystals. "Looks... looks like you got your   
excitement."  
  
"And then some," Venus agreed. Her normal light-heartedness   
had returned. "Well, you did say you wanted a chance to study these   
things. Jeez, it's hot!" She fanned herself with her hand as she   
looked out at the remains of the golem. Much of what was left was   
cracked and charred. "What the heck happened?"  
  
Mercury was about to say that she honestly had no idea when   
she noticed a flicker of fiery gold amidst the heat haze. As the   
color resolved itself into a form, Mercury gasped. A Sailor Senshi?   
The pale yellow of the girl's skirt and the deep orange-red of her   
hair made her look like a strange inversion of Venus at first. Was   
this some sort of illusion?  
  
"Another one?" exclaimed Venus. "How many of us *are* there,   
anyway?"  
  
The girl strode towards them, her flame-colored form rippling   
in the shimmering air.  
  
It should have been majestic and awe-inspiring, and for a   
moment it was, but the effect was completely ruined when the girl   
bent over awkwardly and pawed through the junk at her feet, sending   
old bits of cardboard, springs, insulation, tin cans, and what-not   
flying through the air.  
  
After a couple of seconds she straightened up, a length of   
copper pipe in her hand. She squealed in delight, then launched into   
a series of enthusiastic overhead blows, apparently aiming at the   
golem's head.  
  
Aiming, yes. Connecting, no. Mercury and Venus could only   
stare, slack-jawed, as this new Senshi kept swinging at and missing   
the writhing golem. It was like watching the world's worst Whack-a-  
Mole player in action.  
  
Venus cupped her hands to her mouth. "Don't choke up so much   
on the pipe!" she shouted. "Let the weight do the work for you!"  
  
"Have you gone *completely* insane?" Mercury hissed.  
  
Venus shrugged. "I'm just trying to be helpful. Should we lend   
her a hand, do you think?"  
  
Just then, more by luck than anything else, the pipe smashed   
into the mark on the golem's head. The golem and all of its   
scattered bits quietly exploded.  
  
"I did it! I did it!" The girl flung her arms up above her   
head, sending the badly bent copper pipe pinwheeling through the   
air. It missed Mercury's head by mere inches.  
  
The redhead finally noticed Venus and Mercury and smiled   
broadly at the two stunned Senshi while pointing to the big pile of   
dust at her feet. "Did you see that! I did it!"  
  
"You sure did," said Venus. She appeared to be in shock. "Who   
*is* this girl?" she whispered fiercely.  
  
"*Very* nice job," Mercury said to the strange Senshi. "I have   
absolutely no idea," she whispered in reply to Venus.  
  
"Really?" exclaimed the new girl. "You really think I did   
okay?" She rushed up to them and clapped her hands together in   
delight. "Oh! You're Sailor Senshi, too! Oh, let me see if I can   
tell who you are!"  
  
She reached into nothingness the way Mercury did when going   
for her computer, but this new girl pulled out a crystal roughly the   
size of the Ginzuishou. She held the crystal out to Venus, and it   
turned blaze orange.   
  
"That means you're Sailor Venus," the girl explained, quite   
pleased with herself.  
  
"Yes, I am well aware that I am Sailor Venus," Venus said   
flatly. Mercury glared at her. This girl might be able to tell them   
something about the golems--they couldn't afford to alienate her.  
  
The girl then held the crystal out to Mercury. This time the   
crystal glowed a brilliant, eye-watering blue.  
  
"Oh! You're Sailor Mercury!" the girl said, looking up in   
surprise. She tilted her head to one side and studied Mercury. "I   
thought you'd be the girl with the pretty green hair!"  
  
And what's wrong with my hair? Mercury wanted to ask, but she   
held her tongue. "No," said Mercury, sympathizing with Venus's   
irritation, "that would be Sailor Neptune." As soon as she said it,   
she wished she hadn't been so free with the information. Still, it   
might help gain this girl's trust. "Would you mind telling us who   
*you* are?"  
  
The girl thrust her crystal into Mercury's hands. The blue   
glow instantly faded. "You have to promise to give it back," she   
solemnly informed Mercury.   
  
Mercury promised, and the strange girl smiled again and   
quivered with delight.   
  
"Now hold the crystal out so it can see me!"  
  
Was the crystal sentient, wondered Mercury, or was the girl   
simply using a figure of speech? She did as instructed and the   
crystal glowed smiley-face yellow.  
  
"That means I'm Sailor Sun," she said as if explaining a very   
difficult concept.  
  
Venus and Mercury exchanged glances. Why had they never heard   
of   
such a person?  
  
"I can't believe I've finally met you! I've been waiting for so   
very, very long!" Then without warning, she grabbed Venus and gave   
her   
a great big hug. Venus gave a muffled cry of alarm, and very likely,   
pain. Her face turned red, then an unhealthy shade of blue. Sun   
finally   
released Venus, who staggered back, gasping for air.  
  
"Did you know that the golems would be here?" asked Mercury,   
keeping a wary eye out for sudden bursts of affection. "What can you   
tell us about them?"  
  
"Golems are evil," Sun stated matter-of-factly. She tapped the   
jewel on her tiara. "You have to hit them *right there*."  
  
"We kinda figured that," said Venus. She appeared to be ill at   
ease around this new Senshi. Given their experience with Galaxia's   
rogue Senshi, it was only natural that she'd be suspicious. Either   
that, or the other girl had managed to crack a rib. "Isn't there   
anything else you can tell us?"  
  
The girl shook her head vigorously, her long red braid swinging   
through the air like a whip.  
  
Mercury handed the crystal back to Sailor Sun, who tucked it   
back   
out of sight.  
  
"I have to go home now. Mother says I'll be in *big* trouble if   
I   
stay out too late," she said. "I hope I can see you again really,   
really, really soon, and I want meet Jupiter and Mars and everyone   
els!" She clapped her hands together again and giggled. "I can't   
wait!   
Bye!"  
  
Before the others could react, Sun took off across the junkyard  
  
"Wait!" Sailor Mercury called out. Would the other girl even   
hear   
her?  
  
Apparently so. Sailor Sun stopped so suddenly that she had to   
windmill her arms to keep from falling. She turned and stared at the   
other two Senshi with the curious head-tilt that Mercury had already   
pegged as characteristic of the girl.  
  
"Shouldn't we make sure we know how to find each other again?"   
Mercury asked.   
  
Sailor Sun smiled broadly. "I found out where Jupiter lives!"   
she   
said with noticeable pride. "I can just jump up onto her balcony."   
She   
clasped her hands together and laughed. "Wouldn't she be surprised!"  
  
"No!" said Mercury. Sailor Sun cringed at the sudden outburst.   
It   
was a strangely submissive reflex, but there was no fear behind it,   
only befuddlement, shame, and a little sadness. Mercury was starting   
to   
draw some rather disturbing conclusions about this new Senshi. She   
spoke more gently, hoping to put the girl at ease. "Jupiter's place   
isn't very private. It would be better if you met us at Mars's   
place...   
on Saturday?" she said, turning to Venus for confirmation on the last   
part. Venus nodded.  
  
"Saturday?" the girl asked. The head-tilt showed up again, and   
her brow wrinkled in puzzlement.  
  
Oh, dear. "That's three nights from now. Why don't you come by   
at... right around noon," she finished, not sure that this strange   
new   
Senshi had a grasp of anything even so simple as a clock. "Do you   
know   
how tell when it's noon?"  
  
Sun thought for a moment, then nodded, pointing straight up at   
the sky. "Noon. Not tomorrow," she said, "and not the day after that,   
but the day after that? At noon."  
  
"Very good!"   
  
The newest member of the Sailor Team was so delighted that   
Mercury thought she might launch herself into orbit from sheer joy.   
  
That joy faded quickly as Mercury tried to give Sun directions   
to   
the Hikawa Shrine. She gave Sun directions several times, but Sun   
only   
grew more frustrated and agitated as she tried to figure out what   
Mercury meant by this street name or that. She also kept confusing   
right and left. Every time she began to grasp a concept, she would   
forget earlier parts of the directions.  
  
Whenever the confusion got to be too much for her, Sun's china-  
doll face would squinch up in frustration. At one point, she broke   
away   
from the two of them and started pacing violently, muttering angrily   
to   
herself and pulling at the ribbon on her chest as if trying to shred   
it. Mercury studied the body-language and realized that there was a   
good chance that Sun might lash out if she became too agitated.  
  
Venus was growing frustrated too, and tried to help by   
repeating   
Mercury's instructions slowly and loudly, exaggerating each syllable   
as   
she stood practically nose to nose with the girl.  
  
"Venus, be quiet for a minute, will you?" Mercury went up and   
took Sun's gloved hand in her own. She smiled softly, reassuringly.   
"You're new at this, aren't you?"  
  
Sun nodded. Mercury could see the confusion and anxiety evident   
in her muddy brown eyes. She was relieved to see no evidence of   
tears.   
In fact, the girl's eyes looked strangely dull.  
  
"Would you remember how to find your way back to this place?"   
Mercury asked gently, pointing to the ground at her feet.  
  
Sun nodded, but hesitantly.  
  
"Why don't you meet me here three days from now, right at noon.   
Then I can *show* you how to get to Mars's place. Would that be   
better?"  
  
Sun squealed with joy and hauled Mercury into a bone-crushing   
hug, knocking the wind clear out of her. Mercury gasped for breath   
and   
tried to glare at Venus, who was sniggering loudly in the background.  
  
After she let Mercury go, Sun made her *promise* that she   
wouldn't forget to meet her at the junkyard.  
  
"Three days from now, at noon. Right *here*," Sun said,   
pointing   
emphatically at the ground. "I won't forget!"  
  
"Good," wheezed Mercury.   
  
Sun dashed off again, then stopped, turned, and waved. "Bye!"   
she   
called.  
  
Venus and Mercury waved mutely. Sun leapt over a pile of junk   
and   
out of sight.  
  
"That was... different," said Venus.  
  
"Well, it's certainly not like when we met Uranus and Neptune.   
Do   
you think we should meet at the shrine tomorrow, and tell the others   
about this?"  
  
"Yeah. I hate to say it, but that girl makes Usagi look like a   
Colossus of Rhodes Scholar. Do you think she's for real?" Venus   
shuddered as if shaking off dirt. "Gah! I *know* I'm going to have   
nightmares about that dog for weeks! Let's go home."  
  
"Would you mind waiting with me for a moment?" Mercury asked.   
"I   
want to check the other golem remains for crystals."  
  
Venus shrugged. "No problem. I'll watch your back."  
  
Mercury checked the scan she'd taken of the golem Sun had   
destroyed. Now that she knew what to look for, she could let her   
visor   
scan for crystals rather than digging through the dust. The results   
scrolled across her field of vision. She frowned. "That can't be   
right.   
Let's go look at the two that you destroyed."  
  
Venus led her back towards the front of the junkyard. She cast   
a   
woeful glance at the sad little heap of fur by the gates. Mercury   
scanned the other two piles and read through the results. This time,   
she cursed.  
  
Venus flinched in surprise at Mercury's language. "What's   
wrong?"  
  
"Nothing!" Mercury sighed and calmed herself down. "I mean,   
there's nothing. That's what's wrong. No crystals, nothing out of the   
ordinary, just dirt."  
  
"Huh. Weird." Venus did not sound particularly worried, or even   
interested. "You ready to go?"  
  
They headed home, taking only a brief detour to de-transform   
and   
duck into an all-night convenience store for snacks. They parted ways   
near Ami's apartment building.  
  
Ami headed upstairs, exhausted, but knowing that she wouldn't   
be   
able to sleep. Things were starting again, and her brain was awhirl   
with possibilities and precautions. Even a long, hot bath was unable   
to   
calm her.  
  
She wished she could sleep. She wished she could dream. She   
wished that somehow she could break into her own memories of the past   
and talk things over with Ikarus.  
  
"You fool," she whispered to herself. "You poor, hopeless   
fool..."  
  
  
# # #  
  
  
Author's notes:   
  
In chapter eight, we see an example of how *not* to handle personal   
problems, and a demonstration of why Senshi communicators make lousy   
alarm clocks. Detective Seidou's team gains a new member. It is   
discovered that holograms are no substitute for the real thing.   
Hotaru has a rotten evening. Three different means of overseas   
communications are used with a high degree of success, and we learn   
that Ami is not the only Senshi cutting class these days. Also   
included are some brief lessons in Soviet history, goldfish   
genetics, and Great Disasters of the Twentieth Century.  
  
  
A note on Japan's criminal justice system. Suspects can be detained   
in police custody for questioning for up to four weeks until it has   
been determined that they will be accused of a crime or if there   
will even be a trial. At that point, a judge will determine whether   
or not the custody period can be extended. More than 90% of the   
time, this extension is granted. Normally, convictions are based   
upon confessions that suspects often sign out of a sense of shame.   
  
For those of you who are not cross-stitch otaku, letting your friend   
have first crack at a new Teresa Wentzler pattern is truly going   
above and beyond the call of duty and friendship.  
  
A different color uniform for Saturn? Check out page 97 in vol. 9 of   
the manga (Tokyo Pop English translation) for more information.  
  
Just a reminder--this story draws more upon the manga than it does   
the anime. The two are quite different, especially in the Neherenia   
arc. The manga version concentrates on Mamoru, who is the holder of   
the Golden Crystal, and the Amazon Quartet are actually Sailor   
Senshi who have been brainwashed. Also, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto   
have their talismans from the get-go. The one major exception is   
that I am blending the storylines from the first season anime with   
its manga counterpart. I do apologize if this seems like cheating. 


	8. Past Imperfect

Disclaimer: The main ones are where they usually are. *Special* disclaimer at the end of this chapter!  
  
Author's notes: The boring stuff's at the end as usual, but while I'm here let me beg and plead for reviews. (Insert pathetic whine here).  
  
  
  
Empire of the Sun  
  
Chapter Eight: Past Imperfect  
  
  
  
Thursday, July 5  
  
Sometime around 3:00 a.m.  
  
  
  
Who was it who'd said that in each dark night of the soul, it was always three in the morning? Jason thought it had to be either Fitzgerald or Faulkner, but he was always getting those two mixed up. Maybe it was Hemingway. Ahhhh...hell with it, he concluded, taking another swig of beer.  
  
He'd managed to keep himself together since leaving Taiyouko's building, but then, he'd had distractions. On the train ride out of the city proper, a couple of Canadian college students grilled him for information on what to do, where to eat, and so on. When they asked him where they might be able to score some dope, he treated them to a little lecture on the Japanese prison system, and how it was *not* something they'd want to write about in their travel diaries.  
  
When he got back to Keisuke's place, he was ambushed by three dervishes by the name of Megumi, Satoru, and Daisuke. The fourth dervish was out playing softball. Keisuke's four kids were even bigger sports fanatics than their father, and they practically dragged him to the local park to play basketball with them. He protested theatrically, but that only made the kids laugh and pull at his arms even harder. God, it brought back memories... *Good* memories, this time. He could have stayed out there for hours, but no one dared be late to dinner, not at Akiko's house, no sir! Then, after dinner, he and Keisuke stayed up until midnight playing cards, drinking beer, and swapping stories about bizarre and memorable cases.  
  
Eventually, everyone in the Takamori household was in bed, sleeping the sleep of the just. He, on the other hand...  
  
After three hours of tossing and turning, he gave up. He left his room as quietly as he could, snagged a couple of beers out of the fridge, and sat out on the back step to think.  
  
If only he hadn't screwed up the directions to Taiyouko's apartment!  
  
At first, it wasn't any big deal. That Makoto Kino girl seemed pretty nice-- and those macaroons were the best he'd ever had. Too bad she was only in high-school. Given that she was living on her own, he'd guessed that she was at least in college. Good thing her friends had shown up before he could ask her to dinner and get himself into an awkward situation.  
  
Yeah, sure. Sure it was a good thing.  
  
He pounded his fist on the step. Why did it have to be *them* of all people! He'd recognized them right away. They'd hardly changed at all.  
  
Mercury.  
  
Mars.  
  
He'd thought about seeking them out. He hadn't planned on just meeting up with them out of the blue. There had been no time for him to prepare. No time for him to steel himself.  
  
There had been one, blood-freezing moment when he'd thought that Mars had recognized *him*. What would he have done if she had?  
  
He wondered if he would have had the strength to do the right thing.  
  
Hell, did he even know what the right thing was any more? He used to know, a long time ago. Maybe.  
  
He flung the empty beer bottle out into the night, reached out with his mind, snapped it to a halt, and let it drop quietly into the trash bin.  
  
If only he could talk to Frank Pembleton about this whole mess. The Jesuit- educated detective was forever wrestling with issues of faith, conscience, and ethics that would make a bishop give up and turn in his pointy hat. Frank truly believed in justice and law, and in the kind of right and wrong that was far more than simple adherence to the rules. He was also clear- eyed enough to know that the real world often ran hard against those ideals, and that day-to-day living was a constant battle between heaven and hell.  
  
Jason had no trouble believing that. The things he'd seen had him just about convinced that hell was winning by a twenty point spread.  
  
When you spent your life chasing killers, it was much, much too easy to start resembling that which you hunted. Time and again he had seen how easy it was for good men to cross the line between killer-catcher and just plain killer. It was even easier to turn a blind eye when someone else stepped over that line.  
  
Frank hadn't turned a blind eye. Instead, he simply quit the force in moral disgust over the whole Luther Mahoney thing while Jason was still lying comatose in the hospital.  
  
Jason ran his hand along the front of his tee shirt as if feeling for the scar on his chest. When he woke up in the ICU, he had a breathing tube down his throat and two centuries of alien memories in his head.  
  
No, even if Frank had stuck around, there was no way that Jason could have talked to him, not unless he wanted a nice long vacation in the psych ward.  
  
The one nice thing about this trip so far was that he finally had proof that he wasn't crazy. The shock of recognition he'd felt upon meeting Chiba could not be explained away, no matter how hard he tried. The prosecution rests, ladies and gentlemen.  
  
Jason held up the bottle and twirled it around, watching the beer slosh against the sides. The big question now was: had Chiba recognized him? A whole lot rested on the answer to that one.  
  
He finished the beer and chucked the empty bottle out towards the trash can. This time, his mind held it in the air for a while, letting it spin around like a compass needle.  
  
Why did he have to run into *her*! Of all people!  
  
The bottle imploded into a million fragments. The tattered label fluttered down into the trash, but the razor-sharp shards kept swirling around like a galaxy.  
  
He saw *her*, and he remembered. He remembered her face, and the last time he had seen her in that other life. How on earth could he have been so... so... *stupid* to think that he could ever deal with seeing her again? He shivered and swallowed, praying that the beer was not about to make a quick and unpleasant exit. Every time he tried to push back the memory, she loomed before him again, the look in her eyes washing over him like frigid rain.  
  
"Leave me alone," he whispered. "Please, just leave me alone!"  
  
He looked at the remains of the bottle spinning in midair. The glass shards slowed in their orbit and tumbled randomly, twinkling dust motes reflecting the glow of a streetlamp.  
  
Those eyes continued to stare at *him*.  
  
"It wasn't me," he muttered. "This is *not* my problem!"  
  
If he kept repeating that, he might actually start to believe it. He let the pieces of glass sift through his mental hold. They fell like thousands of shattered stars.  
  
He never asked for any of this! He didn't want these alien feelings and memories that threatened to rise up and erase him and all the hopes and dreams he had built up over twenty-eight years. They weren't very big dreams, he admitted, but they were *his*. He'd worked hard for them. Why did he feel like he was being asked to sacrifice them to someone he'd never truly met? Why should *he* bear the guilt for things he'd never done?  
  
He picked up a bottle cap and tossed it up and down absently.  
  
If you wanted a definition of "unfair", then this situation fit the bill just fine. The problem was, he couldn't just leave it at that. "Unfair" was a damned poor excuse when there were things that needed to be put right.  
  
Funny. He could almost hear his mother saying that to him. No, not *saying*. Yelling.  
  
Gradually, without even thinking about it, he began to make the bottle cap dance in the air, spiraling up in elaborate pirouettes, then swooping down to slalom through his fingers.  
  
He would have to find a way to get Chiba alone, and unguarded. Then, he could decide what to do next. Maybe he'd find out that he still knew how to do the right thing.  
  
  
  
7:23 a.m.  
  
  
  
Usagi got an earlier start to the day than she'd planned. Luna clawed her awake at what must have been the crack of dawn to tell her that her communicator light was blinking.  
  
"I *tried* tapping you with my paw," said Luna, her muffled voice emerging from the depths of the laundry hamper. Usagi had not taken kindly to being awakened. "It's not my fault you're a sound sleeper."  
  
"Nnngfff." Usagi slapped her hand down randomly on her nightstand until she felt her communicator. She fumbled around with it until it made a noise.  
  
"H'lo?"  
  
"Usagi-chan, it's Ami."  
  
"Wh'timezit?"  
  
"Never mind that," Ami said. "We need to meet after school at Rei's place-- I'm calling everyone else, too. Could you tell ChibiUsa-chan and Mamoru- kun?"  
  
"Hnnghh?"  
  
Ami sighed and gave Usagi a brief summary of what had happened the night before.  
  
"Oh. Th's nice. Bye." She clicked off the communicator.  
  
The ear-brain connection finally kicked in. Usagi's eyes slammed open.  
  
Ten seconds later, she had told ChibiUsa about the meeting, grabbed a fresh uniform off its hanger, and laid claim to the bathroom.  
  
It was early enough that she theoretically had time to relax and get ready at a more leisurely pace, but the dash-and-scurry of her morning routine was too deeply ingrained. Besides, if she kept up her normal frantic pace, she didn't have time to think about the implications of Ami's news.  
  
The phone rang as Usagi was racing by. She screeched to a halt and picked it up.  
  
"Hello! Tsukino residence!" she panted.  
  
"Usagi-chan?" asked a woman on the other end. "Is that you?"  
  
"Uhh..."  
  
"I know, it's difficult to remember these things early in the morning," said the woman. It was hard to tell if she was joking or just being sarcastic. "Is your mother around?"  
  
Usagi shook off the feeling that she had somehow tumbled down a rabbit- hole. A lot of Mom's old friends expected her to remember them automatically, even if they'd last seen her seventeen years ago. "Sure! May I tell her who's calling, please?"  
  
"Taiyouko Seidou."  
  
The rabbit-hole feeling returned, except that this time, what had been a mere tumble was now a full-out free fall. "Uh, hold on. I'll get her." She put the handset down on the kitchen counter. For a moment, she seriously considered slamming it back down on the receiver, but that would only make things worse.  
  
"Mom! Telephone!" she yelled. She grabbed her briefcase and pulled on her shoes as quickly as she could. "It's a Taiyouko Seidou!"  
  
"No way!" Ikuko hurried down the steps and into the kitchen. "Taiyouko- chan?" she shrieked in delight. "I don't believe it! It's the strangest thing, but I was just thinking about you the other day..."  
  
Usagi slipped out the door as quickly as she could and scurried down the walkway before her mother could notice she was gone.  
  
She should have remembered that very little got past Luna. The plump black cat managed to haul herself over the fence and land right in front of Usagi, nearly getting trampled for her effort.  
  
"Usagi! What on earth has gotten into you?" Luna demanded. "You're nearly twenty minutes early for school and you didn't even eat your breakfast!"  
  
Amazing. Luna could somehow manage to sound critical about *anything*. Usagi kept walking.  
  
"I'll stop at the bakery and pick up a danish or something. I wanted to get out of there before Mom got off the phone. That lady detective just called. The one that visited Mamo-chan."  
  
"Artemis told me about her," said Luna. If she was surprised, she hid it well. "What on earth was she calling about?"  
  
"She knows me. No, not about that!" Usagi said when she saw the cat's eyes go wide in alarm. "She knew *me*. She said we'd met a long time ago. It sounds like she's an old friend of Mom's or something."  
  
"Oh, dear. This does complicate things, doesn't it?" The cat's ears tilted back. "I doubt it'll be too long before your mother tells this detective all about your engagement to Mamoru-kun."  
  
Usagi's stomach flipped over. She hadn't even thought of that.  
  
"This is bad, bad timing. It will be nearly impossible for you to investigate these golems if this woman comes snooping around. Perhaps you should go back home for a moment and find out why this woman is calling, and why now of all times," suggested Luna. "Artemis said that Mamoru felt something powerful when those two detectives came in..."  
  
The cat stopped when she saw Usagi's expression, and lashed her tail in disgust. "Mamoru-kun didn't tell you about that either, did he?"  
  
"No." Usagi stopped and set her briefcase on a nearby bench. She opened it started rummaging through the mass of papers and assorted junk, searching for her cell phone. "He didn't."  
  
She found the phone and hit speed dial.  
  
"Be that as it may," Luna continued, "we should try to learn more about what this person wants or who she is. What if she's--"  
  
The phone stopped ringing. Usagi shushed the cat. "Mamo-chan? It's me," she said before he could even say hello.  
  
"Usa-ko? What are you...is something wrong? Are you all right?"  
  
She was *not* going to start yelling. She was *not* going to hurl accusations at him. "No, nothing's *wrong*. I was just a little startled when I got a phone call this morning."  
  
"Okay," he said, the word coming out as more of a question.  
  
She sat down on the bench. "It was that detective you warned as about. Remember, you gave her card to Rei so she could do a reading? She called our house this morning."  
  
"What? Why would she call you?"  
  
He sounded only mildly curious, but there was something odd about his voice. Usagi remembered what Artemis had said about the way he'd smelled that day.  
  
"She wanted to talk to Mom. It sounds like they're old friends or something. This is getting weirder and weirder by the minute, Mamo-chan. I don't like it."  
  
"Usa-ko, relax!" He had better not be laughing at her! "It's probably just a coincidence."  
  
"I don't care if it's just a coincidence! Once she starts talking to Mom, you know she's going to find out that we're engaged. You were the one who was worried about her snooping after the rest of us and finding out our little secret!"  
  
Silence. Then, "I see. What do you want me to do?" he asked.  
  
The fact that it sounded like a sincere offer only made it worse. How about telling me the truth, she felt like asking.  
  
"I don't know," she said. Then, before she could stop the words from coming out: "Maybe there's something you *haven't told me* about her visit!"  
  
Luna backed under the bench and cowered out of tantrum distance.  
  
"Usa-ko, what on earth are you talking about?"  
  
"Artemis talked to me the other day," she said with no other explanation.  
  
There was another moment's silence.  
  
"Okay. Artemis talked to you, and...?"  
  
He was acting like he had no idea what she was talking about! Guys could be clueless, but this was absolutely ridiculous! "Well, for one thing, Artemis told me that you sensed something powerful when those two detectives came by yesterday. Then, I got a call from Ami this morning. She and Venus ran into a bunch of golems yesterday, *and* a new Sailor Senshi!"  
  
"Usagi-chan, keep your voice down!" Luna hissed.  
  
"Usa-ko, it sounds like you have enough to worry about, so please let *me* worry about these detectives," he said. "I told you before that it's probably nothing."  
  
Uh, Mamo-chan, didn't you hear me say something about a new Senshi? How can you say...  
  
"Nothing? I'm sorry, but you feeling something powerful around the same time a golem attacks Hotaru and another Senshi shows up is *not* nothing!" She took a deep breath. She was furious, but she was not going to let this turn into a fight. "How can you be so sure that this doesn't have something to do with what happened when you were six? Artemis said that they asked you point-blank if you knew if anyone might want to kill your parents!"  
  
"It was an accident!" he shouted. Usagi nearly dropped the phone. "I told those people that over and over again! Why doesn't anyone want to believe me?"  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She wished she could say more.  
  
I'm sorry that I don't know how to make you face up to whatever it is that's scaring you.  
  
I'm sorry that this is going to tear you to pieces before it's all over.  
  
She wished Mamo-chan was there with his arm around her. He made her feel not just safe, but strong. She always felt so vulnerable without him. When he was around, she could believe that everything would be all right. When he wasn't there, she sometimes felt nearly crippled by her inability to watch over him and protect him.  
  
Now she felt doubly helpless because he did not know that he needed her help. His voice had been so shrill when he'd shouted at her. She'd never heard him sound like that before, and she prayed that she would never hear it again.  
  
She heard him sigh. Exasperation? Resignation? Relief?  
  
"Usa-ko, they only ask those questions because they have to. It's part of the job. Please, don't tell the others about this. I don't want them to blow this out of proportion." He laughed, but it sounded tinny. Maybe it was just the phone. "I could just see Minako deciding to 'play detective,' and end up leading those two right to our 'extracurricular activities.' If we play it cool and keep to ourselves, maybe they'll just go away."  
  
How dare he say that about Minako? She had more experience keeping her Senshi nature a secret than the rest of them--and she had worked closely with the police at that! Usagi also didn't believe that those two detectives would be going away any time soon.  
  
Mamoru went on with his lecture, and gradually, the tension began to ease. "Besides, if they are working for 'the enemy' or something, chances are Rei will find it out when she does a reading on that business card I gave her. Until then, try not to think about it so much. I love you, Usa-ko, and I hate to see you worry."  
  
As she continued to listen, the warmth of his voice coming through the phone buoyed and reassured her. Maybe everything would work out all right in the end. She'd figure out some way to get him through this.  
  
"I love you too, Mamo-chan. We're meeting at Rei's right after school to talk about this new Senshi business. Can you make it?"  
  
"Sorry. I really wish I could, and I'm not just saying that. I've got clinicals tonight. They've got me on the burn ward--it absolutely sucks me dry. It's unbelievable how much pain some of these people are in," he said with something like awe. "It hits me like a wall every time I walk into the ward."  
  
Usagi smiled even as she felt tears sting her eyes. These third-year clinicals always left Mamo-chan exhausted--and not just because of the killer hours. She was both wonderfully proud of him and horribly concerned for him at the same time. "Are you able to do anything for them?"  
  
He was quiet for a moment. It was as if he became tired just thinking about it. "Not as much as I'd like. It doesn't take much to accelerate the healing in some of the minor cases, but with the really bad ones... giving them enough energy to let them get just an hour's pain-free sleep is almost too much for me."  
  
If he could, he'd give even more. He never said so, but Usagi knew he would. He would take every last drop of their pain and never think twice about it. So why couldn't he face whatever it was that was tormenting him now?  
  
"Have I told you how much I love you?" she said, her voice trembling. "Take care of yourself, okay? I'll talk to you tomorrow."  
  
He gave her his love, then went off to do whatever it was he did with his mornings.  
  
Usagi started to put her cell phone away, then paused. She hit a different speed dial number and waited as the phone rang.  
  
"Usagi-chan, I hate to nag, but you'd better get moving if you plan to pick up breakfast on the way to school."  
  
"Breakfast'll have to wait," said Usagi, who barely noticed Luna's expression of shock. The phone stopped ringing.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"V-babe? Hi, it's me. Listen, I'm sorry to bother you, but could I speak to Artemis?"  
  
  
  
9:17 a.m.  
  
  
  
"Keisuke-san, it's been a while since I've lived in Japan, but I seem to remember that there was this general attitude that 'the nail that sticks up gets hammered down.' I also know that it's still not that easy for women to get anywhere professionally. I'm glad she's done well for herself, but I just can't see how Seidou's made it as far as she has."  
  
Out in the hall, Taiyouko had a man in a business suit backed up against the wall. Keisuke had identified him as being a prominent defense attorney. At first, he'd worn a look of indignation at being reprimanded by this woman. Now, it looked like he was nearly ready to do a full-out face-on-the- floor bow of apology.  
  
Keisuke shook his head. "She should know by now that if she's going to walk down the hallway with a bunch of files or a Fed-Ex box under her arm, people are going to assume she's an office lady."  
  
The two of them turned back to reviewing their case notes.  
  
"You've worked with her for four years?" Jason asked. "How come you're still alive and sane?"  
  
"Only by the grace of God," was the dead-pan response. Keisuke was a devout Christian, but had a relaxed sense of humor about his faith. Jason had to wonder how he'd ever gotten paired up with Taiyouko in the first place.  
  
"To take your hammer and nail analogy a little bit further," Keisuke continued, "I guess you could say that Seidou-san is the nail that not only sticks up, but bends and swivels when you try to hit it so that you only end up dropping the hammer on your foot." Keisuke looked around, making sure that no one was paying too close attention to their conversation. "To be honest, I think they're afraid to let her go or to chastise her too harshly. She doesn't sweep things under the rug, but she knows how to be discreet about politically sensitive cases or about cases that we'd rather not see in the headlines. Besides, I think Harada-san is scared of her."  
  
"No he's not," said Taiyouko. Both men jumped. Neither one had seen her approach. "I am always perfectly nice and pleasant to him. How's everything coming on tracking down the man who called in the accident?"  
  
"I've got a current address, but no phone number. Keisuke-san's got his old motor vehicle records," said Jason. "By the way, Seidou-san, was your friend in London able to find anything out about that old friend of mine?"  
  
Taiyouko shook her head. She sat down at her desk, and slipped the Fed-Ex box into her tote bag. "Barbara said it might take a day or two before she could get to it. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything. So boys, show me what you've got."  
  
Keisuke remained silent, so Jason took that as his cue to begin. "Well, I've traced our Mr. Semyon Renko--you never told me he was a foreigner, by the way--to an address in Kamakura." He shoved a piece of paper across the desk to Taiyouko.  
  
"His papers said he was a Japanese citizen," said Taiyouko. "I remember noticing the funky name, but he didn't have an accent, so I didn't think much of it at the time. Besides, he checked out as nothing more than a good Samaritan with a mobile phone."  
  
"People really had car phones back then?" asked Jason, earning dirty looks from the two older detectives.  
  
"Yes, Wonder-boy. They came in handy when you were running late on a woolly mammoth hunt." Taiyouko studied the address. "Kamakura, huh? That's only about an hour from here. Nice place," she said, looking at the address. "Beaches, mountains, old buildings, that kind of thing. It probably costs a mint to live there. Did you find anything else?"  
  
"According to his records, Renko was originally from Siberia, if you can believe it, from some town called Vanavara. I checked the atlas, and it's truly at the ass-end of nowhere."  
  
"People really *live* in Siberia?" Keisuke asked. "I thought that's just where Stalin sent people he didn't like."  
  
"Good work. Two points to Detective Wright. Anything else?"  
  
"*I'd* like to know how he got Japanese citizenship," said Jason. "I know that for me, even though I was born here, it would be damn near impossible. This guy became a citizen in eighty-one, back when the Soviet Union was still the Soviet Union. That makes his being a Japanese citizen even stranger, if you ask me."  
  
"You've got a point. I'll look into it," Taiyouko said. "I should be able to tell if anything looks fishy with the situation. In the meantime, let's plan on paying Renko a visit in the next day or two. Also, see if there's anything interesting about this Bora Bora place or whatever it's called."  
  
"Vanavara," Jason corrected her. After less than a week in Tokyo, he was already pronouncing 'v's more like 'b's, but this time he emphasized them.  
  
"Thank you, Henry Higgins," Taiyouko snapped. "Keisuke, did you find anything we can work with?"  
  
"According to Motor Vehicles, our Renko-san was the proud owner of a 1987 Mercedes sedan from December of 1986 to August of 1987. It was a custom import from Germany. Any guesses as to what color?"  
  
"Pink?" asked Jason. Taiyouko bopped him over the head with a steno pad.  
  
"Dark green," Keisuke said smugly. "Just like the car that chased the other one off the cliff."  
  
"That's still only a theory, Keisuke. I want Watanabe's opinion on those photos, and I also want to run it by some people on the accident investigation team. Still, it's interesting that he ditched the car in August. Less than a year old and right after the Chiba incident. That's definitely one of those things that make you go 'hmmm.' Does it say if he sold the car, junked it, or what?"  
  
"It says here that the car was reported stolen. I'll follow up and see if that turns up anything else."  
  
"Good boy. I was digging through Chiba's school records and found a nice little discrepancy that we need to check out." She looked around her own desk, and shuffled through the ever-present piles of paper. "I was just looking at it this morning... now where did that thing go?"  
  
Taiyouko cast a quick look around the office. Most of the other detectives were off on their own cases. A couple of the interns were working to scan documents for the Met's archives.  
  
Taiyouko got up and walked over to another intern who was sitting quietly at a desk, reading some papers that were clipped into a file. Jason recalled that her name was Saori Something-or-other. The poor girl was clearly oblivious to her impending doom.  
  
With one smooth motion, Taiyouko plucked the file out of Saori's hands and held it up over her head.  
  
"Found it!" she called out across the room, waving the file for all to see.  
  
Saori's face was so red she looked like she'd been roasted over an open fire.  
  
"You just stay right there, Mishima-kun. I'll talk to *you* in a minute." Taiyouko flipped open the file to a page she'd flagged with a lime-green plastic paperclip and dropped it on Keisuke's desk.  
  
"Here it is. His school records say that he was went into foster care for a couple of years starting in 1989, after a stay in the Fushiawase Home for Boys. That's as far back as the records go."  
  
Jason automatically translated the name. "The Ill-Luck Home for Boys? Is that supposed to be some sort of joke?"  
  
"The kanji are read as 'facing eternal life' but the pun's obvious when you say it out loud. It's like something out of Dickens," Taiyouko said. "Add to that the fact that I couldn't find any official or unofficial record of the place, and the fishy factor in this case officially reaches high stink. Keisuke, see if you can track down the social worker who handled Chiba's foster care placement. I'll talk to Chiba himself and see what he remembers about where he was before going into foster care."  
  
"I'd be happy to come along with you on that," Jason said. There were some other things he hoped Chiba might remember. If the man had truly recognized him, then his presence might help knock loose a few of those memories.  
  
He was so excited by the possibility that Taiyouko's flat refusal took several seconds to sink in.  
  
"I don't want him to feel hounded," she explained. "The two of you stay away from him for now."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Wonder-boy, do I have to remind you that you're only supposed to be an observer? I shouldn't even be letting you help with the research end of things."  
  
She turned to look at Saori, who was sitting perfectly still where Taiyouko had left her. The embarrassed flush had given way to deathly pale. Taiyouko waved her over with a sharp flick of her hand. "Mishima-kun, get over here."  
  
Saori did as bidden. She stood by the trio of desks, eyes downcast and hands folded docilely in front of her. Taiyouko swiveled her chair and looked up at the intern, tapping her fingers together as she studied the girl for what seemed like eternity.  
  
"You know I could have you thrown out of the program for what you just did," Taiyouko finally said.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Saori whispered.  
  
"If I report this to your advisor, there's a good chance you'd be expelled."  
  
Saori turned even paler. She squeezed her hands tightly together to keep them from shaking.  
  
"Mishima-kun, look at me when I'm speaking to you," Taiyouko ordered.  
  
Jason watched, instinctively holding his breath. Saori was standing, and loomed over the seated detective, but he once again felt that strange sense of inversion. Taiyouko seemed to be looking *down* at the hapless intern. Her pupils were little more than angry pinpoints, making her pale hazel eyes look like those of a raptor.  
  
"If you feel that keeping a friend out of trouble is more important than seeing that justice is done, then you need to consider a different course of study. Chiba *is* a friend of yours, correct?"  
  
Saori swayed under Taiyouko's glare. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
"If you really want to help him, then you will do *exactly* as I tell you, is that clear?"  
  
"Ma'am?" Saori blinked a few times. Was Taiyouko offering her an out? Both Jason and Keisuke leaned forwards, taken in by the suspense.  
  
"We think that he's a material witness in the murder of his parents." Ignoring Saori's gasp of surprise, Taiyouko continued as if she were giving directions for an exam. "For his own protection you will tell him nothing about this investigation unless you clear it with me."  
  
The blazing cold in her eyes faded to a mischievous twinkle. "Clearly the only way to keep you out of trouble is to put you where I can keep an eye on you. Here are the ground rules. One, you will work with Detective Takamori. You will do *nothing* on this case without his express approval. Keisuke, you okay with that?"  
  
"Do I have a choice?"  
  
"No. Two, if you have what you think is a brilliant flash of insight, don't act on it unless you have reason to think that someone is in immediate danger. Otherwise you tell me, or Takamori, or even Wright. Understood?"  
  
Saori nodded, too overwhelmed with relief to say anything.  
  
"Keisuke, you have anything for our girl to work on?"  
  
"Yes I do," came the enthusiastic response. Keisuke opened the old evidence box from the case, and pulled out a thick pile of green and white pin-feed computer paper. The text was badly faded dot-matrix printing in a jerky, uneven format. "Here are all of the records of 1984 Hondas registered in Japan at the time the crime was committed. Go through them all, pick out the ones that are maroon wagons--if it's not stated, you'll have to do a VIN number search with Honda."  
  
"Check out anything that says 'red' or even 'purple' as well. You know how people are with colors," Taiyouko said helpfully. "After that, track down the owners. Once you've finished doing that, we'll take a look at any of the records where you couldn't find addresses or tax information after...let's say 1989 just to be on the safe side." She tossed the now glassy-eyed Saori a highlighter. "Here. You'll need this."  
  
"Welcome to the exciting world of police work," Jason quipped. He was starting to get a pretty good idea of how Taiyouko operated.  
  
"Oh, and when you have a chance, give your friend a call and see if you can find out what time he typically gets back to his apartment in the early evening." Taiyouko grinned, and once again Jason thought of hawks and other things with sharp eyes and even sharper claws. "I think I might take Chiba for a little ride in the country and see if I can't jog his memory a bit."  
  
In the meantime, thought Jason, he'd do a little unofficial investigating on his own. There were some other memories in Chiba's mind that might need to be jogged loose, and they were nobody's business but his own.  
  
  
  
4:30 p.m.  
  
  
  
A new Senshi? Impossible. No matter how much she racked her brain, Luna could find no way to account for such a thing, logically or otherwise. Mentally, she hissed and spat at the blank spots in her memory. Queen Serenity's magic rarely failed, but Luna supposed that given the complexity of putting her and Artemis into millions of years of suspended animation, and the desperate circumstances that Her Majesty had been in at the time, she could make a few allowances.  
  
Artemis spoke for both of them. "Sorry, but I don't remember anything about any Sailor Sun, not even the barest hint of a rumor."  
  
"You two didn't know about Saturn and the others, remember?" Makoto snapped, indicating the Outers with a nod of her head. She was still fuming about the fact that she had missed an encounter with the golems.  
  
The group had once again gathered at the Hikawa Shrine and had crammed themselves into Rei's bedroom. They were all crammed around the table, except for Haruka, Michiru, and Setsuna, who were leaning up against Rei's bed. Michiru had her head on Haruka's shoulder and was half asleep. She didn't smell right to Luna. Was she coming down with something?  
  
"We'd never actually *met* Uranus and Neptune during the Silver Millennium," Luna pointed out. She tried not to react to Makoto's surliness. "We did say that we knew *of* them, but didn't know if they were real or not."  
  
She did not mention how the memory had not slid into place until they had encountered the pair. This matter of convenient recall troubled her. They always seemed to remember the important things when they needed to, but could they always count on that happening in the future?  
  
"This Sailor Sun girl is real, all right," Minako said. "That attack of hers was no joke. What did she call it, Ami?"  
  
"I think it was 'Plasma Flare,' but I could be wrong. I was a bit distracted at the time." She opened her computer. "Fortunately, I had set this to scan the area while we were fighting, so I was able to get a reading on her attack."  
  
"She has a *blood* based attack? That's... that's just... yuck!" Usagi said.  
  
Ami and Setsuna both gaped at her in disbelief.  
  
Usagi held up her left hand to show off her ring. Even now, Luna observed, she took any excuse to flaunt the diamond. "Helloo-oo! I'm engaged to a medical student, remember? I've learned more gross things about gross anatomy in the past year than I ever wanted to know in my entire life."  
  
"There's another definition besides the fluid in blood," Ami stammered, still staring at Usagi as if she'd grown a second head. "Plasma can also mean a highly ionized, electrically neutral gas. Well, it's not really a gas, but close enough. It's something that you might find in the heart of a star."  
  
Haruka let out a long, low whistle. "The heart of a star? You're saying that this new girl could be as powerful as Usagi or Hotaru?"  
  
Ami shook her head. "Unless she has something else up her sleeve, I seriously doubt it. Her Plasma Flare wasn't quite as hot as Rei's stronger attacks, although it seemed to have a greater overall range. It had more of a concussive element to it than Rei's attacks, but nowhere near that of your World Shaking."  
  
"That's still pretty damned powerful. I don't like it," Haruka said. Her gray eyes were the same color as looming thunderheads.  
  
"Neither do I," said Setsuna. "The Sailor Senshi were meant to be representatives of the habitable worlds--or worlds with habitable moons." She took a deep breath and Luna noticed that she would not look the others in the eye. "As with every rule there were some exceptions, but I would swear on my life that there never was or would be a Sailor Sun. It never would have been allowed."  
  
"There's no Sailor Sun in the future," Diana volunteered. Luna nearly fell off Usagi's lap and Artemis's jaw fell slack. Diana *never* came forward with specific information about Crystal Tokyo.  
  
"She's right," said ChibiUsa. "Puu told me that Ceres, Juno, Vesta, and Pallas were the last of the Senshi."  
  
Setsuna double-blinked. "I did?"  
  
"Uhhh..." ChibiUsa giggled nervously. "You *will* tell me that they were the last of the Senshi? Maybe?"  
  
Luna saw the glare Diana turned on her princess and wondered if she looked like that when she got annoyed with Usagi. She hoped not. It was hardly attractive.  
  
"At least she seems eager to work with us, not like... um, Iron Mouse or Aluminum Siren," said Ami, neatly avoiding a verbal land-mine at the last possible second.  
  
Haruka's expression discouraged any further comment on the matter, but Michiru had the good grace to look embarrassed.  
  
"What surprised me was how *happy* she was to meet us," Ami added.  
  
"If you ask me, she was *too* happy to see us," Minako grumbled. She hiked up her shirt. "See, I've still got a bruise!"  
  
Rei reached over and yanked the shirt back down.  
  
"It's just us girls!" Minako exclaimed.  
  
"Rei-chan, please take your hand off my eyes," said Artemis.  
  
"She was rather...enthusiastic, and I don't think she had a good idea of her own strength," Ami said.  
  
"Enthusiastic?" Minako's eyes bugged out in disbelief. "Ami-chan, that girl was several bricks short of a picnic and there was nobody--and I mean *nobody*--home!"  
  
The silence that followed was one of those awkward ones where everyone waited for someone else to make the obvious joke.  
  
Ami's struggle to keep a straight face gave way to hesitation and embarrassment. "I think that what Minako-chan is trying to say is that this new Sailor Senshi..." she twisted her fingers together. "Well, I can't be certain, not without a chance to observe her some more, but she seems as if she might be mildly retarded."  
  
"Ami-chan!" Luna exclaimed. Usagi protested as claws sank into her lap. "That's hardly a nice thing to say about someone you've just met!"  
  
Ami closed her eyes and seemed to be counting to ten. "I don't know how else to describe it, Luna. I'm using the term in its clinical sense based on what I could tell about her intellectual level, emotional level, and impulse control. From everything I saw, she was acting more like a kindergartener than a young adult."  
  
Luna felt Usagi's breath in her ear. "Luna, don't you *dare* say anything!" she hissed.  
  
"Please! I'm not trying to be funny! She looks as if she's our age, but she can barely grasp basic concepts. She didn't even know the days of the week! When I tried to tell her how to get here she lost track after just a few simple directions, and she got so frustrated I was afraid she was going to throw a tantrum. I also don't think she really knows what kind of damage she's capable of doing. Right before we got to the junkyard, I think she managed to blow up a barrel of diesel fuel with a stray shot."  
  
Luna flicked her tail. Usagi might still be learning to think beyond the moment, and she often let her emotions cloud her judgment, but Luna knew that the girl was more intelligent than even she herself realized. Minako could be feather-brained to an aggravating degree, but when she was concentrating on something, it quickly became obvious why she had been appointed leader of the Senshi. It sounded, however, as if Sailor Sun's problems were far more than just an annoying quirk of character. Plus, if Ami was correct, this girl's power was on a par with that of Jupiter or Mars.  
  
The idea that such a person had poor self control and even poorer judgment was terrifying. She turned towards Artemis. The corrosive stench of worry surrounded him like a fog. He caught the look in her eye and nodded.  
  
"I can't speak for Luna," he said, "but after I woke from that long sleep Queen Serenity put us in, it was weeks before I could think straight. I was barely able to remember my own name." It was a good explanation, but he didn't sound as if he believed it.  
  
A memory flickered across Luna's mind. A girl with red hair cradling a white cat and singing softly. Her own anxiety as they vanished from her sight and hearing. Anxiety turning to panic as a pair of large, capable hands scooped her up and as she found that she was too weak even twitch her tail in protest. But all the stranger did was hold her against his shoulder and speak softly. The low, masculine voice rumbled through his chest and practically shook her entire body.  
  
"You've had a long nap, Miss Kitty, but it's time to get up now."  
  
What exactly *had* happened when she and Artemis had woken up? This was the first time she had remembered any details about that time. Who were those people? Unfortunately, before she could pin down anything else, Ami's voice knocked her back to the present.  
  
"So in other words, she could have woken from a cold sleep and still be trying to get her bearings?" she said, but she sounded dubious. "She seemed to know what those golems were, though."  
  
"I still can't believe I missed the fight!" Makoto said, banging her fist on the table.  
  
"So you've said," Rei snarled. "Several times."  
  
Minako shrugged. "Hey, we did ask you if you wanted to come along, Mako- chan."  
  
"That's not the point!"  
  
"Anyhow," said Ami, raising her voice, "we have a new Senshi and a new kind of monster. Some of us have also been having dreams about the past. I don't think this can be coincidental."  
  
"That's what I keep telling Mamo-chan," Usagi mumbled.  
  
"What was that?" asked Luna. She thought that Usagi had decided to keep quiet about Mamoru's problems until she'd had another chance to speak with him and Artemis could check things out some more. Luna also wanted to be there to smell for herself if Usagi and Artemis had been right about Mamoru's reactions.  
  
"Nothing. Ami-chan, you and V-babe didn't get hurt at all, did you?"  
  
"Nope. Piece o' pie."  
  
"I didn't have quite so easy a time," Ami said. "My fog didn't have any effect on them at all. A Shabon Spray Freezing did hold off one of them long enough for me to get away, but Sun was the one who ended up destroying it. With a length of copper pipe, actually, not a Plasma Flare."  
  
"Hold on a sec!" Haruka made a time-out gesture. "I don't get it. Saturn's attacks didn't even slow the golem down, and Venus and Mercury were able to take out *three*?"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Minako snapped. "Ami-chan and I have been Senshi longer than any of you besides Usagi-chan, and I was a Senshi well before she was! We know what we're doing!"  
  
"Jeez, Mina! Take it easy!" Artemis growled. "She has a point."  
  
"Hey, don't take it personally! I'm just saying that out of all of us, the Princess here is the only one who's more powerful than Saturn," Haruka said. "It just doesn't make sense that one of your *least* powerful attacks would destroy one of those things."  
  
"No. I suppose it doesn't," Ami said. Her cheeks were flushed and she spoke crisply. Luna had long suspected that Ami was more sensitive about her relative weakness as a Senshi than she let on. "I do have a possible explanation, however."  
  
"You *did* know how to destroy them going into the situation," Hotaru said. "You didn't have to waste time like I did trying to figure out how to fight them."  
  
"There is that," Ami said, somewhat mollified. "Also, the golems that we fought weren't quite the same as the one you faced, Hotaru-chan. I went out to the construction site the other day, and I dug through what was left of your golem. I found four shards of crystal that glow blue whenever I or any of the other Senshi get near them." She started rummaging through her backpack. "I showed them to the others, and... well, apparently I left them back at my apartment." She smiled sheepishly.  
  
"So why didn't the goblins we destroyed have them?" Minako asked.  
  
"Is there a chance you could have missed them?" Setsuna asked. "I know you're normally quite thorough, but if it was dark..."  
  
Ami shook her head. "I scanned with the computer, and it found nothing. Given that the crystals have the same molecular structure as the Ginzuishou, they should have been easy to spot."  
  
Luna tried not to look too smug about the stunned expressions on the Outers' faces.  
  
Ami waited until she had everyone's full attention once more. "I think the chances of this new enemy being connected to the Silver Millennium have increased rather dramatically."  
  
No one disagreed.  
  
"Ami-san, do you think that the crystals were what made the golem immune to my attack?" Hotaru asked. She beamed when Ami applauded her answer  
  
"That's *exactly* what I'm thinking. I'll have to take another look at them, but this time in Senshi form." She then handed a sheet of paper to Hotaru. Luna couldn't see what was written on it. "Hotaru-chan, does this look like the mark you saw on your golem's forehead?"  
  
Hotaru studied the paper for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. "I think so. It has the same *sort* of look, anyhow."  
  
Setsuna leaned over so she could see. She looked at the mark for a moment, brows drawn together, then she shook her head. "It looks more like brush calligraphy than carving, doesn't it? I wish I could tell you something about it, but I have no idea what it is or what it means."  
  
Rei reached out across the table. "May I see?" She took the paper and studied the character for a while, rotating the paper this way and that. Luna caught a glimpse of a roughly triangular character with a large dot at one corner. "Something about this looks familiar. Ami-chan, do you mind if I keep this for a while?"  
  
"Not at all. I keep thinking that I've seen it or something like it somewhere else, too. I just wish I knew why that one golem had crystals and these others didn't. The more information we can gather on these things, the better. Speaking of information, Setsuna-san, could you give us a quick overview of what you remember from the Silver Millennium?"  
  
Setsuna rocked forward onto her knees and held a large object up over the table. An overstuffed ring binder landed in front of Ami with a "whumph." Minako's drink tipped over.  
  
"There are two more binders out in the car," Setsuna said darkly. "Let me know when you want them."  
  
"Oh." That was all Ami had to say for the moment.  
  
Hotaru pulled the binder over to her and started leafing through it.  
  
"It's not very well organized, I'm afraid. There are also a lot of gaps in the account. You see, I was--"  
  
"Stuck at the Gates of Time," Rei and Makoto muttered in perfect unison.  
  
"There *is* that," Setsuna snapped. Everyone flinched. They were not used to seeing a Setsuna who could be so easily ruffled.  
  
"I could sense the flow and flux of time," she continued, "but it's not like anyone had bothered to provide me with a big-screen TV with a satellite feed to the Moon Palace. What I was going to say was that although I--my prior self, I mean--was alive long before the Silver Millennium, I wasn't always there when something important happened. Sometimes, I might have been there but not have realized that what I saw or heard *was* important."  
  
She leaned in beside Hotaru and tapped at the binder. "Also, a lot of what's in here is based on hearsay. After I was stationed at the Gates, I did have visitors from time to time, and I heard bits and pieces from them. Mostly gossip, but there were a few things worth writing down.  
  
"Anyhow, I seriously doubt that this Sailor Sun is for real, but I'll have to give you a little background so you can understand what I mean. The oldest beings in the universe were not so much living creatures as ideas and principles. Love, Justice, Peace, Time,"--here she unconsciously circled one hand over her heart--"Hope, Order, and even Chaos."  
  
"The...you mean the same Chaos that I..." stammered Usagi. Setsuna nodded. "Oh my," she said softly.  
  
"Chaos was not always evil," Setsuna said. Her voice had grown quiet, and her eyes did not seem to be fixed on anything in the room. "That's another story, though, for another time. These Ideals were born straight out of the Galaxy Cauldron, long before the first and mightiest stars, and they considered themselves older brothers and sisters to these stars.  
  
"As time went on," she continued, "other beings and other forms of matter were created. By whom, I don't know, but planets began to form around stars, and the Ideals began to have offspring. I wouldn't call them 'children,' exactly. They either created these new beings out of matter and put some of their essence into them, or the beings sprung out of the combination of two Ideals, or the refinement of one Ideal. For example, Divine Love might give rise to Romantic Love." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. This barely makes sense, even to me. For all I know, I have it all wrong."  
  
"So," said Ami, "the story of Athena springing fully formed from the head of Zeus might have come from the way these Ideals created their offspring?"  
  
"That's better than I could have put it myself," Setsuna said, and Luna could smell the frustration fading away from her. Once that the frustration was gone, Luna could smell something else. She couldn't quite pin down what it was. How odd. She looked at Artemis, and he nodded. He'd sensed it too, then.  
  
"The universe was soon full of 'living' beings of many, many kinds. The strongest of these, as I said, associated themselves with the stars. Sol, the Sun, was considered one of the most important stars because one of its planets, Earth, was the *only* planet in the universe where organic life came into being. Again, I have no idea how or why this happened. Earth's inhabitants were born from the planet itself."  
  
Setsuna studied Ami, ChibiUsa, and Michiru for a moment. "Remember those characters that Usagi and Minako showed to us? Out of those, only Rosamund and Lamia, the ladies of the Greenwood and the Waters, were neither Ideals nor the children of Ideals. They were both completely of the Earth. The other inhabited worlds--Mau, Coronis, Kinmoku, and so on--were first settled by people and creatures from Earth."  
  
"What about Queen Serenity?" Minako asked. "What about us?"  
  
"I'll get to that later." She smiled softly, but it was forced. "Until I started doing this project, I had no idea how much some of these memories hurt, so please, be patient with me. I also want Mamoru-kun to be here when I talk more about Earth, if that's all right with the rest of you."  
  
Haruka was the only one who voiced any unhappiness about the idea.  
  
"Haruka," Michiru said sleepily, "don't raise a fuss, please? I'm sure that whatever it is can wait."  
  
Haruka agreed, but the scowl did not leave her face.  
  
Luna wasn't entirely happy with the situation, either. She would have to talk to Setsuna one-on-one to go over that story. If there were any nasty surprises, it might push Mamoru even further into denial than he already was. She also wanted to know what that smell was and what was prompting it. It wasn't worry or fear, but it came from the same family of smells.  
  
"There were *four* different Ideals associated with the Sun," Setsuna said. "Hyperion, Ananke, Astraea, and Helios."  
  
"Helios!" ChibiUsa exclaimed, and Luna could have sworn that she saw little hearts light up in the girl's eyes. Minako giggled and batted her eyelashes, and Diana merely rolled her eyes.  
  
Setsuna smiled her usual mysterious smile, but this time it was to hold in a laugh. "Helios was a younger Ideal, and his story is rather interesting-- and *very* long. After the wars with Chaos, Helios became the spiritual guardian of the Earth, which meant, by the way, that he gave up a lot of his power. Many Ideals were weakened, splintered, or even killed in those wars.  
  
"It was after this that Hyperion, Ananke, and Astraea formed the Eunomia to keep order in the Solar System as planetary life spread over the Earth and beyond. I'll go into more detail later, but for now it's enough to say that they did the dirty work involved with restoring the Solar System to peace. Earth's creatures ruled themselves with the one High King over all, while Queen Serenity ruled the rest of the Solar System. At the beginning of the Golden Kingdom and the Silver Millennium, the Eunomia stepped down as absolute rulers, but they managed to stay... involved in things.  
  
"The Eunomia acted as advisors to both the Queen and the High King, but as I recall, when they said something, it wasn't exactly a suggestion. They also maintained their rule over the Sun, and used its fires as a prison for those who fought against Queen Serenity and who refused mercy even after they were defeated."  
  
"Wait a minute," said Usagi. Her eyes squinched shut. "I think I remember from...no, not from back then...ah! from when we were at the ruins of the Moon Palace! You know, right before we fought Beryl."  
  
"That's right!" Makoto said. "Didn't Queen Serenity say something about the Sun being really active that year, and some evil escaping into the Earth?"  
  
Setsuna's eyes lit up as wonder and hope swept over her. "You...you mean you talked to Serenity? How? When? Did she..."  
  
Ami shook her head sadly. "A few months after we first became Senshi, we encountered a hologram of the Queen," she explained. "There wasn't much energy left, but she was able to speak to us for a little while. I don't know if there's any way to restart the program, or how much of what we saw was really the Queen or how much was some sort of copy. I'm sorry, Setsuna- san, I truly am."  
  
As Ami finished her explanation, Setsuna's shoulders sagged and she appeared to grow smaller, somehow. Luna had never seen her look so vulnerable.  
  
"Oh." Setsuna's voice was hollow with disappointment. After a little while, she began her story again. "Well, you understood her correctly. Serenity had absolutely no authority over the Sun, and could never have appointed a Sailor Sun, and I *seriously* doubt that the Eunomia would have appointed one. They were far too jealous of their power and rank. I don't even know why they stepped down in the first place. I thought it was a joke, when I first heard about it. I suspect the only reason why they stepped down without a fuss was because Hyperion was head over heels in love with Serenity."  
  
The spontaneous and collective "awwww!" that followed this statement kept the room in giggles for nearly two whole minutes. Even Setsuna seemed much more cheerful after that.  
  
"But how can you be sure that something didn't happen after you became Sailor Pluto?" Ami asked once things calmed back down. "Could something have changed so that they had to appoint a Sailor Sun?"  
  
Setsuna shook her head, not to negate what Ami had said, but in puzzlement. "Queen Serenity came to visit me all the time," she said, and there was just a hint of doubt in her voice. "I can't understand why she wouldn't tell me about something like that."  
  
She was quiet again for a long time. "I'm glad to hear that this girl isn't any more powerful than Mars," she finally said, "because I'd hate to think of something so bad that the Eunomia would have given their full power to a Sailor Senshi."  
  
"Um, I hate to ask, but how bad is bad?" Minako asked.  
  
Setsuna looked straight at her, garnet eyes meeting blue.  
  
"Remember how I said that Chaos had not always been evil? How it had been one of the first Ideals to emerge from the Cauldron? After Chaos decided that the only thing it cared about was gaining more and more power for itself, there was a terrible, terrible war that lasted for thousands of years." She reached up to brush something from her eye. "I... my prior self lost so many people back then. So many were killed. So many became less than what we... what they had been before."  
  
Usagi was trembling, and it was all Luna could do not to bush out her tail and dash out of the room. So many emotions pouring through the girl at once! How could she stand it?  
  
"In the end," Setsuna continued, "the only ones who were able to defeat Chaos and seal it back in the Galaxy Cauldron were the three who would become the Eunomia. That's what I meant when I said I didn't want to know what they would consider to be bad."  
  
Luna tumbled to the ground as Usagi jumped to her feet and ran outside.  
  
  
  
6:40 p.m.  
  
  
  
The drive home was sheer hell.  
  
"God *damn* it, Setsuna! The way you told your story, you made it sound like there's another Galaxia running around out there!" Haruka said. "Of course she'd react like that!"  
  
Hotaru kept to herself in the back seat. She had shrunk into one corner, hands neatly folded in her lap. If she could have, she would have become invisible, unnoticeable. She wished she had her Discman with her.  
  
"How many times do you want me to apologize, Haruka? All I was trying to say is why I thought that this Sun person is most likely an impostor. The girl isn't powerful, therefore she wasn't meant to defend against another foe like Chaos."  
  
"That may have been what you meant, but it *wasn't* what she heard. Also, why wouldn't you tell us about Earth? I felt like you were deliberately pointing out that you were *not* going to talk about it."  
  
"I didn't want to say anything until I had a chance to talk with Endymion...gah! I mean Mamoru. It just didn't feel right, like I'd be talking about him behind his back or something like that."  
  
"Is that the only reason?"  
  
Just shut up, thought Hotaru. You're only making it worse. Setsuna said she's sorry. She said she'd tell us the rest of the story. Please just shut up, both of you.  
  
"Haruka, I told you all back there that this is *not* easy for me! I will tell you everything, but it's going to take me a while. I'm deliberately going back over all of these memories for the first time in this lifetime-- which is something I'd never have done if it weren't for this--and it feels like these memories are of things that happened to me in *this* life. Don't you get it?" She tapped one finger to her temple. "Up here I'm reliving what it was like to lose *family* during the Chaos War! Well, I'm sorry if I was too wrapped up in myself to watch every single word I said and think about how others might interpret it!"  
  
Haruka let out a long, low breath. "Don't be like that. You know how hard it was on Usagi-chan when Galaxia killed every one."  
  
Shut up. Shut up shutup shutupshutupshutup...  
  
"I'm as unhappy about this Sailor Sun thing as you are, Setsuna, but that's- -"  
  
"Haruka dear, please just let it go," Michiru murmured.  
  
Hotaru jumped. She'd thought that Michiru-mama was asleep again.  
  
"Fine," Haruka said quietly, and that was the last word spoken on the way home.  
  
As soon as they got home, Setsuna went straight up to her room. Hotaru quietly followed her, and knocked on the door frame to get her attention.  
  
"Setsuna-mama, do you have another copy of that thing you gave to Ami-san?"  
  
"I'm almost out of paper," Setsuna said. "What little I have I need for my physics report. I'll make you a printout as soon as I have time to pick up some more printer paper." She turned on her computer and turned on her television and went to work without a further word to Hotaru.  
  
Hotaru's shoulders fell. Setsuna could have been more polite about it, but she wasn't in the mood to start anything. If she did, Setsuna wouldn't be the one getting into trouble.  
  
She found Michiru in the kitchen, putting things together for dinner.  
  
"Would you like some help, Michiru-mama?"  
  
Michiru turned and smiled at Hotaru, but her eyes showed nothing but weariness. "That's sweet of you, Hotaru-chan, but I've had a rough day, and I'd really rather be alone right now."  
  
Pause. "Oh. Okay."  
  
She heard someone clearing her throat in the other room. Haruka-papa stood just outside the kitchen, giving her the old evil-eye again. Hotaru walked out into the hall hesitantly, wondering what it is she'd done *this* time.  
  
Haruka-papa walked with her over to the staircase. "Michiru's had a rough week," she said. "Try not to bother her if you can help it, okay? And hey-- I'm sorry you had to listen to all that in the car."  
  
Hotaru nodded, then turned and ran up the stairs before she said anything she might regret.  
  
Michiru was having a bad day. Michiru was having a bad week. Everyone was so worried about Michiru that they were walking on eggshells!  
  
Hotaru dashed into her room, being sure to slam her door loudly enough so that everyone would know she was upset. Why didn't people fuss over *her* when she was having a bad day?  
  
For a minute or two, she considered calling the Tsukino household and inviting herself over for dinner, but in the end she decided it probably wouldn't be a good idea, not after Usagi had run out on them like that. ChibiUsa eventually brought her back, but then Haruka had insisted they go home as soon as everything looked like it was under control.  
  
Usagi had told them that she would be fine, Hotaru recalled. Even so, Haruka-papa and Setsuna-mama went on and on about as if Usagi had had a complete nervous breakdown. If Michiru-mama hadn't said anything, they'd *still* be arguing.  
  
Hotaru flopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She wondered if there was any way she could get out of dinner without creating another fuss.  
  
No one would care about her and her problems. No one ever did.  
  
Oh, I went through that when *I* was fourteen, they'd say. Everything seems so bad when you're that age. Everything's a crisis when you're fourteen. You're blowing it all out of proportion. You're making a big deal over nothing. You'll get over it. Poor baby. You'll grow out of it.  
  
"As if that's supposed to make me feel better," Hotaru muttered. She supposed she was being selfish and petty and self-centered, but right then she just didn't give a damn. Hurt was hurt and that's all there was to it.  
  
You just feel that way because you're fourteen. It's all in your head. It's only hormones. It's nothing but growing pains. That means that nothing you're feeling right now is important, or even real, so go away and stop bothering us, kid. You'll understand when you're older.  
  
How could they know, thought Hotaru, if they couldn't see the turmoil that was in *her* head? How could they be so darn sure that it was "just fourteen?"  
  
She rolled over onto her side and hugged her knees to her chest. She wanted to stand in the middle of her room and scream her head off, but that would bring everyone running and they'd either get mad at her, or worse, try to cheer her up.  
  
The last time she felt this bad was in the days when her father was not-her- father and Mistress Nine was trying to take over her body.  
  
The pain and seizures were no longer there, but she couldn't escape the feeling that things in her brain were trying to turn themselves inside out. Cyborg. Freak. Alien. Destroyer. How much more worse could things get?  
  
As she fought back tears (she wasn't about to go down to dinner after she'd been crying--dinner would be bad enough as it was), Hotaru tried to think back to what ChibiUsa had said to her the other night to make her feel better, but the words would not come to mind.  
  
"I'm only fourteen," she whispered. "How am I supposed to know what I'm supposed to do?"  
  
  
  
Friday, July 6  
  
2:00 a.m.  
  
  
  
Usagi was sound asleep, but there was a faint smile on her face. A slight fluttering beneath her eyelids betrayed the fact that she was in the middle of a dream.  
  
I wonder what she's dreaming about, thought Luna. Probably her wedding. With that smile, it had to be something nice.  
  
She padded over to her mistress's pillow and lay down, tucking her front paws beneath her chest and curling her tail along her side so that she formed what Usagi had laughingly dubbed a "catloaf."  
  
ChibiUsa was curled up right next to Usagi, with one arm flung over her future mother's belly. After what happened at the shrine, ChibiUsa had insisted on staying with her that night. Diana was there, too. She slept with her back pressed against Usagi's other side, her head tucked and front legs curved so that she looked like a furry comma.  
  
Luna started to purr. It wasn't often she got to see all three of her 'daughters' sleeping so sweetly like this. Usagi murmured something in her sleep, and one arm moved to encircle Diana ever so gently. The little bell on Diana's collar jingled softly as she snuggled into Usagi's embrace.  
  
Luna's heart melted within her. She thanked the moon that Usagi could be content, even if it was just for this little while.  
  
When Usagi had run out of the shrine, Luna and ChibiUsa were quick to follow. Rei, Makoto, Minako, and Ami were not far behind them. When they found her, Usagi was grasping one side of the shrine gate, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline.  
  
ChibiUsa quickly proved that she had grown in more than stature over the past year. She turned to the rest of the Senshi, who would not stop asking Usagi if she was all right, if there was anything they could do, and so on. Even if Usagi had answered, they wouldn't have heard her over the noise.  
  
ChibiUsa forced herself in between Usagi and the others. "Guys, could you go back to the shrine? Please? Let me talk to her alone."  
  
"We just want to make sure she's okay," Makoto protested.  
  
"We'll be quiet," Minako said. "We promise!"  
  
Rei shook her head and gave her two friends her best "stern miko" look.  
  
"Please," ChibiUsa said.  
  
"You'll bring her right back, won't you?" Ami asked quietly.  
  
ChibiUsa nodded, and the four girls headed back to the shrine.  
  
Luna waited quietly as ChibiUsa hugged Usagi from behind and rested her cheek against her back.  
  
"You won't have to fight all alone this time... Mama," she said. From up on top of the shrine gate, Phobos (or was it Deimos?) cawed softly in agreement. Luna had almost forgotten that they, too, had given their all in the last fight.  
  
Usagi straightened up a little. "She's hurting so much," she whispered. "She had all that hurt inside and she never told us. Why? Why couldn't I have been there for her?"  
  
You could have knocked Luna over with the proverbial feather.  
  
Luna felt shame burning within her. She had come out here expecting to find a despairing or even hysterical Usagi. Despite everything she had seen over the past three years, she had almost forgotten that Usagi was no longer the girl who had wanted to quit during that first battle when she had done no more than fall and scrape her knee.  
  
Over the past year, Usagi had confided to Luna her fears of facing yet another insanely powerful enemy, but that was not what had her upset.  
  
"My mother was everything to Pluto, wasn't she?" Usagi whispered. "Didn't you see the way she looked, when she thought that Queen Serenity might have survived? I..." her voice caught on the words.  
  
There were tears and trembling, yes, but over another's pain. She didn't even mention her own.  
  
Usagi let go of the gate and stared down at her hands. Had she hurt them somehow?  
  
"I defeated Chaos. Me. How can I possibly be that strong?" she wondered.  
  
"You *are*," said ChibiUsa. She held Usagi even tighter. "That's what Papa always told me. 'Sailor Moon is invincible,' he always said."  
  
"Am I? Was I?" Her voice was shaking wildly. "Could I have saved the Moon Kingdom somehow? If I had been stronger," she said, laying one hand over her heart, "if I had kept my head after Endymion was killed, if I hadn't..."  
  
"Usagi!" Luna snapped. Her heart was racing. As far as she knew, ChibiUsa didn't know that Serenity had killed herself in her past life, and she didn't want her to find out like this. "Please, believe me when I tell you that there was *nothing* you could have done! You didn't have the Ginzuishou back then. Queen Serenity was the one with that power."  
  
Usagi stared at her as if finally realizing that she was not alone out there by the gate.  
  
"Things are different now," Luna said, more softly this time. "You can't allow yourself to waste time and wear yourself down by always thinking 'what if' or 'if only.' We may find answers by looking back at our pasts, but we can't change the past itself."  
  
Usagi brushed at her shirt and shorts, which were covered with dust from the old gate. "No, we can't, can we?" she said quietly. She seemed to be thinking things over. A host of expressions flitted across her face. Worry, fear, doubt, confusion, surprise, and then finally she smiled, just a little. "Things *are* different now."  
  
The smile deepened, and Luna wondered what on earth Usagi could be thinking about.  
  
ChibiUsa finally let go of Usagi and rubbed her shoulder roughly but affectionately. "C'mon, Usagi. Let's go back before the others get worried and come out here again."  
  
"Okay. Lead on, squirt."  
  
"You'd better watch it, Usagi! Mama says I'm probably going to end up being taller than she is, and you know what that means!"  
  
Usagi hip-checked ChibiUsa, making her stumble a couple of steps. "In your dreams! Right now you're still a squirt, Miss Squirt!"  
  
ChibiUsa shoved back. "Am not!" she tried to say, but she was giggling too hard.  
  
The two of them carried on all the way back to the shrine, rough-housing and teasing like sisters.  
  
Luna and Diana simply looked at each other then started laughing themselves. The expression on Diana's face must have been a mirror image of the one on her own, and Diana knew it, too. Luna didn't know what came over them next, but as one they dashed after the two princesses and did a crazy slalom between their ankles as if trying to trip them, then laughed themselves silly at the girls' shrieks of surprise and outrage.  
  
Somehow, the four of them managed to pull themselves together before going inside to tell the worried Senshi that everything was okay. Usagi explained that what Setsuna had said had merely startled her, and that she had stayed outside so long because she was embarrassed about acting like such a loon.  
  
The four Outer Senshi left immediately after that, only taking time for the briefest of goodbyes.  
  
The others hung around much longer. They could tell that Usagi was still upset, but once she suggested going out for ice-cream, they knew that she would be all right.  
  
Luna scooted in closer to the sleeping Usagi, and rested her head in the crook of Usagi's shoulder. Through some miracle, she must have said just the right thing back there at the shrine. Usagi had been thoughtful all evening, and Luna caught an occasional whiff of doubt or anxiety, but other than that, Usagi seemed to be just fine.  
  
Luna lifted her head, yawned widely, then put her head back down and quickly fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.  
  
  
  
5:30 a.m.  
  
  
  
Once she'd gotten her coffee, Taiyouko turned on her computer. There was a brand new message from Barbara Havers.  
  
Good morning, Sunshine. Found info on S.C. Ellwood as per request. You were right about the immigration thing. No record of return to U.K. in 1998.  
  
Taiyouko grimaced and took another sip of coffee. When she had done her own inquiries, she had found that this Ellwood person had entered Japan in January of 1998, but that there was no record of departure. That could have been a clerical oversight, but it was stretching probability to have the exact same error occur in England.  
  
I forwarded your request to Lynley  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
This wasn't meant to be an official inquiry and Barbara had to go and forward it to her supervisor! Oh, if she caught any trouble for this, she was going to take every single ounce of it out of Wright's hide!  
  
and he said that SCE's kidnapping is a closed case because SCE couldn't or wouldn't name who did it and because the family has a fancy pedigree and a title going back to William the Conqueror. As you can imagine, the Powers That Be bent over backwards to keep it out of the press.  
  
Well, well, well. Yet another case swept under the rug by an officious hand. It may have been the lurker's prompting, but she had a nagging desire to see a photograph of Wright's missing friend.  
  
Lynley said he'd forward info on the case, if you promise to let him know before anything goes public. He did give me Elwood's phone number-- from his own personal address book! It's unlisted, so you'd never be able to find it otherwise. Every time I forget he's the eighth bloody Earl of la- di-da Atherton, he tosses something like this at me. He also told me to warn you not to expect any cooperation from Ellwood. You'd think that the victim in a kidnapping and assault case would be eager to see justice done, but not here. He won't admit it, but Lynley's curious to see if you turn up anything.  
  
Taiyouko shook her head in sympathy. She knew what it was like to be haunted by a case. It could do things to the brain. Hearing voices, developing groundless suspicions, believing in conspiracy theories... The next step usually involved going out into the streets wearing coat hangers and tinfoil on your head and ranting about government mind-control rays or the Trilateral Commission.  
  
The lurker asked what coat hangers had to do with anything.  
  
"Oh, shut up!"  
  
As it vanished back into the dark of her mind it peevishly asked if she had noticed that yet another case with a hostile victim/witness was tied to Jason Wright.  
  
"If I had a hundred yen for every victim I've met who refused to testify against her attacker, I could afford to have someone vacuum you out of my skull!"  
  
Even so, she had to admit that the thing had a point. She was just annoyed that it had formulated the thought before she could. She jotted down the phone number. Maybe there was some way she could arrange to be present when Wright made his call.  
  
She got her second cup of coffee and flopped down on the couch. This had better be worth getting up at o' dark early.  
  
Taiyouko checked her watch. It was 4:45 yesterday afternoon in New York, and unless she was deep in the middle of something, Anita was probably getting ready to pack it in for the day.  
  
She re-read the note that was scribbled on the overstuffed envelope that she was in the FedEx box she'd received yesterday.  
  
**Call me before you open this. --Anita**  
  
The overseas connection took only a couple of seconds to get through.  
  
"Twenty-seventh precinct," barked a voice on the other side of the world.  
  
"Lieutenant Anita VanBuren, please," Taiyouko said. "This is Detective Seidou. She's expecting my call."  
  
Despite the brusque manner, the receptionist was quite helpful, and put her right through without giving her any hassle.  
  
"VanBuren here."  
  
"Anita? It's Taiyouko. I got your package."  
  
"Hey, girl! Talk about good timing. I was just finishing up in here. By the way, Ed and Lennie say hello, and Lennie said to be sure to ask if you were coming back to New York any time soon."  
  
"I wish I were," Taiyouko said with genuine warmth. Despite all of the craziness, she had loved her time in New York. "To tell you the truth, I'm going to need a vacation once this case is over, so remind Lennie that he still owes me that dinner."  
  
Anita laughed. "Oh, believe me, he hasn't forgotten. I think he's got something of a crush on you."  
  
"There's no accounting for taste," Taiyouko said, but she was smiling. She wouldn't mind getting to know Detective Briscoe a little better. "Why did you want me to call?"  
  
"I've got some off-the-record information for you on your Mr. Jason Wright that'll help you make sense of what's in that envelope. There's a detective in our sex-crimes unit who used to work homicide down in Baltimore." A sly tone entered Anita's voice. "I had no idea that you two met when you were here last January. It seems you made quite the impression."  
  
Taiyouko winced, knowing what was coming next.  
  
"John Munch says to give you a nice big hello."  
  
She slumped even further down, wondering what on earth she had done to deserve this. Might as well get it over with...  
  
"What did he have to say about me?" Taiyouko asked, wearily.  
  
"Just that you kneed him in the groin for no good reason."  
  
Taiyouko sat bolt upright. "No good reason? He bloody well deserved it, thank you very much!"  
  
"That I can believe," Anita said, her usual wryness cranked up a few more notches. "Lucky for you, however, he was willing to let bygones be bygones and tell me all about your Mr. Wright. The two of them were on the same shift down in Baltimore."  
  
"Really," Taiyouko said, drawing out the word. It might be fun to see how Wright reacted if she did a little name-dropping. "What did he have to say about him?"  
  
"Munch says that when Wright first joined the squad he was obnoxiously bright, friendly, cheerful, and more than a little cocky. He also had a reputation for being something of a daredevil, even before he joined up with the squad. He'd do dumb-ass things like going into a building where he knew there was an armed suspect, or jumping eight feet down into a culvert to chase someone on foot, that kind of thing. Munch said that he and a couple of the others had a running bet on how long it would be before Wright wound up in the E.R."  
  
"I'm hearing the past tense a lot, Anita. I'm guessing that something interesting happened. It also sounds like Johnny-boy doesn't like Wright very much."  
  
"Well, you know Munch. He spent nearly twenty minutes going on about how Wright skunked him out of fifty dollars--don't ask me how much that is in yen--over a game of pool."  
  
It was well over six thousand yen, Taiyouko figured. "It couldn't have happened to a nicer person. So, what else did he have to say?"  
  
"Wright's brother was with the Baltimore fire department when an old row house caught on fire back in January of ninety-eight. From what Munch says, it was practically routine in some neighborhoods--the houses aren't kept up and a lot of tenants use ancient space heaters or even set fires in trash cans to keep warm. Unfortunately, one of the tenants in the building had decided to upgrade his operation from selling marijuana to selling marijuana laced with PCP."  
  
Taiyouko sank back against the arm of the couch and marveled yet again at the absolute stupidity of mankind. "Let me guess. He was brewing it himself and when the flames reached his lab..."  
  
"Exactly. The entire place went up like someone had set off a bomb," Anita said. "Jacob Wright was one of three firemen killed in the explosion. From what I understand, there wasn't a whole lot left to identify."  
  
"I see." Wright had worked Narcotics before going to Homicide. There was a sick sort of irony to the situation. She felt a twinge of pity for the boy.  
  
"Munch says that afterwards, Wright barely spoke to anyone. Not too long after that, Wright and his partner were suspended--go ahead and open the envelope."  
  
Taiyouko tipped the papers out of their envelope. There were three packets of paper instead of one. She recognized Jason's name, and she was pretty sure that one of the others was Jason's current partner. She did not recognize the third name.  
  
"Who's this...Michael Kellerman person?" Taiyouko asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar words.  
  
"Ooh! You butchered *that* one, girl!"  
  
"Would this be a good time for me to point out how you constantly mispronounce *my* name?"  
  
Anita laughed. "Anyhow, you'd better take a read for yourself. Wright was involved in a pretty nasty incident that got the whole squad in a twist. You'll find most of the juicy stuff in the Kellerman file. After he was suspended, Wright went off somewhere to lick his wounds. He was gone for nearly three months and damn near got himself fired for good."  
  
"What happened when he got back?"  
  
"Zombieville, according to Munch. He says it was the kind of thing that would make you a believer in alien abduction. Wright started drinking a bit more than usual--not steadily, just a couple of real benders. He came close to getting run in on a drunk and disorderly one time, and later on he ended up putting a fist to Kellerman's jaw right in the middle of the squad room."  
  
Interesting. Anita had just shown her a whole new panel of buttons she could push. Still, even the American police couldn't just overlook that kind of behavior.  
  
"How on earth did he manage not to get suspended a second time?"  
  
"Those were my words exactly. Munch said that Giardello--their commander at the time--felt that Kellerman had it coming, and that's why Wright got off with the proverbial slap on the wrist. The whole mess finally ended with two cops handing in their badges, three cops dead, and four more in the hospital, including Wright. Now I don't know why you wanted this information, but I'll tell you what jumped out at me. You say that Wright came over there on the IPA exchange program, correct?"  
  
"He certainly did. Goody for me," Taiyouko said, circling one finger in the air in mock enthusiasm.  
  
"I've seen the requirements for these programs, Taiyouko, and they are *strict*. Wright's got a three month suspension and a borderline assault case sitting in his file. And those aren't the only strikes against him. He's got two write-ups in there for excessive force. I don't care how good his clearance record is, there is simply no way that boy would *ever* be chosen for the program, not with those black marks against his name. In my opinion, someone had to have been pulling at some mighty big strings."  
  
  
  
8:25 a.m.  
  
  
  
Michiru felt the empty space next to her and she slowly opened her eyes. Haruka was finally gone. Michiru had been dying to consult her Mirror, but something told her not to do so when anyone else was around. Even though the others had suggested that she use the Mirror, they hadn't pressed too hard on the matter. She wasn't sure what she would have done if they had.  
  
She pushed herself up to a sitting position and leaned back against the headboard. Fortunately, the college health clinic had given her the diagnosis she'd subtly encouraged them to give--mild sleep apnea due to stress. It was nice to be able to give Haruka a rational explanation for what had happened the other day, but Michiru hated that it was a lie.  
  
Ever since she started spending time in this new underwater life, she kept coming close to telling her lover the whole story, but she always stopped before saying anything. Deep in her bones she knew that this had to be kept a secret. She knew it as a fact. She knew it the way she had known that Saturn was a danger to the Earth and all who lived on it. There was something that had to be put right, and she was the only one who could do it.  
  
If she spoke too soon, all could be lost.  
  
Keeping this a secret from Haruka was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. It was even harder than that horrible time when each and every day she had to tell herself that killing a partially crippled twelve-year- old girl was the *right* thing to do.  
  
Now, as then, she fired questions at the issue from every angle, desperately trying to find some other answer, to find some way of doing what needed to be done with less cost to herself or the ones she loved. When she and Uranus had worked to stop Saturn's awakening, they had been together. Their initial, tentative partnership soon became fast friendship, and friendship became love so tumultuously that it was as if they had always had each other to lean on since the beginning of time.  
  
This time, she was on her own.  
  
This time, she could lose Haruka. Every minute she spent awake she spent worrying about what would happen when Haruka discovered the truth. Her stomach was so twisted up she could barely eat. What little she did eat, she threw up more often than not. It was easier to sleep than to suffer the gnawing worry. It was only getting worse. Michiru couldn't be sure, but more and more it seemed that Haruka suspected that something was wrong.  
  
Michiru could read the worry in her lover's eyes. Haruka had been even more attentive than usual, but still, after a couple of days, she never asked what was wrong. Michiru had told Haruka that she was under stress, that she was fighting with her mother, and so on. In a way, all of it was true, and she knew that Haruka wanted to believe it. More than that, Haruka wanted to believe *her*.  
  
Oh, how she wished she could tell Haruka what was happening to her, and all about these fabulous night journeys through the deepest oceans! She daydreamed about taking Haruka with her on these journeys so that they could explore all of these wonders together. She wanted to show Haruka everything she had learned about the deep and perpetual currents, the myriads underwater volcanoes, and of the abyssal rifts that led down to the core of the earth itself. She wanted to take her lover to swim with her among pods of mother whales and their young. They would hold each other tight as they lay together in bed, and they would go to the Great Barrier Reef and the Sargasso Sea, just the two of them, together, the way it was meant to be...  
  
But no, she told herself. It was a nice daydream, but that's all it was.  
  
Michiru crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself tightly. The pulse of the ocean was with her all of the time now. It didn't just take a disturbance for her to sense what the ocean was doing. She was so close to meeting that singer at the bottom of the ocean. It was the thing that had drawn her on, night after night in these dreams, this promise of getting closer. Now, it was almost time to encounter this thing face-to-face. She shivered with anticipation, and yes, a little fear.  
  
She now heard the song even when she was awake. At first, she thought that it was only the memory of the song that she was hearing in much the same way that she might hear a pop song and get a verse stuck in her head. It soon became apparent that this was not the case. The song shifted. It changed with the tides. It was a living, ever changing thing, playing an infinite theme and variation.  
  
Yesterday, after leaving the house, she found a pay phone and called her advisor to tell him that she'd be out sick that day. Practicing with her quartet was impossible, not with that phantom song running through her mind. If she played, she knew that she couldn't stop from trying to play along with that tune that no one else could hear.  
  
She also knew that despite all of her talent, she could never even hope to play anything so beautiful as that song.  
  
After killing an hour or so at a coffee shop to make sure that everyone had left the house, she went back home and went to sleep.  
  
She was no longer quite so sure she wanted to meet the singer, but she knew she had no choice. There was no point in putting it off any longer.  
  
Michiru extended her right hand, and gave the mental command that summoned her Mirror. It appeared in a swirl of aquamarine light and Michiru gasped in surprise. Was this why she had to wait until she was alone?  
  
Instead of the blue-green enamel oval she had expected, the Mirror was now made of...silver? Its frame had changed to something out of the eighteenth century, with clean, classical lines, and only a scallop shell at the top for adornment.  
  
What on earth was going on, she wondered, but something swam into focus in the Mirror, and all thoughts of merely cosmetic changes were swept aside as the song built to a thundering crescendo.  
  
  
  
11:30 a.m.  
  
  
  
The woman hadn't been called by her real name in decades.  
  
She hardly even thought of herself by that old name any more. Sometimes, she still thought of herself as Elena, but she hadn't worn that name since the siege of Volgograd...no, it was Stalingrad in those days, wasn't it? It didn't matter. Names were fluid, transitory things.  
  
These days, she normally thought of herself by the name others called her. Mother.  
  
It had been nearly ten years since anyone had called her by anything but the Japanese variant of that name. How did that phrase go...when in Rome?  
  
She walked through her house, checking in the girl's room. No one there.  
  
Even though she was still learning to think in Japanese, it was important that only that language be spoken in the house and surrounding compound. That was essential, if the child was to be properly educated. Mother sighed. No matter what she did, getting that girl to learn *anything* was an uphill battle.  
  
If the girl wasn't in her room, she was probably in the cloister garden, soaking up the sun.  
  
When Mother had acquired the house, the cloister garden was planted with a chaotic array of greenery and flowers that were presumably meant to mimic a woodland glade. Mother preferred a more formal, European style, so the garden now had low, boxwood edged parterres filled with marigolds and chrysanthemums. Everything was smooth and serene and golden. There once was an ancient sakura tree, but it had overgrown its allotted space, and so it was removed. A few potted topiaries, carved into perfect cones and spheres, were evenly spaced around the cloister, alternating with potted orange trees. In the exact center of the garden was a sunken basin containing a school of ornamental goldfish.  
  
And there was that silly girl, splayed out on the ground as if she hadn't a care in the world. Mother shook her head, and walked out into the garden. Sailor Sun didn't even look up. She remained flat on her stomach, kicking her heels up in the air. One white-gloved arm was sunk halfway into the pool, and she was frowning in concentration.  
  
Mother walked over and flipped down the back of the bright yellow mini- skirt. Honestly. Why couldn't the Senshi wear something more modest for their uniform? She could have told the girl that she was treating the world to a view of her underpants, but that would only make her miserably ashamed and impossible to deal with for at least an hour.  
  
Sun made a grab at an orange and white bubble-eye. Despite the fact that it was about as streamlined as a potato, the fish easily evaded the girl's grasp. Over the course of the past two years, an accelerated Darwinian selection had given rise to the fastest strains of ornamental goldfish known to man.  
  
"Please don't do that. You know you only end up crushing them, dear."  
  
"I'm sorry! I don't mean to grab so hard, but they're so *slippery*! Why won't they let me hold them?" she whined.  
  
"Remember what I told you? Fish like to be looked at. They don't like to be touched. Why don't you feed them, instead? That's always fun."  
  
Mother snapped her fingers, and one of the servants came running. Mother gave him a brief order, and he left again. A minute later, he came back with a stale loaf of bread.  
  
Sun took the bread eagerly, and began flinging huge chunks of it into the pond. The fish scrambled for it, acting as if they hadn't been fed some perfectly good pellets that very morning.  
  
"Am I *really* going to get to see the Sailor Senshi tomorrow night?"  
  
"Yes, dear. You will."  
  
Sun tossed another huge chunk of bread into the pond, and laughed as the fish once again came boiling greedily to the surface. Mother held her tongue. It was not so long ago that half a loaf of stale bread was the difference between life and death, not something to toss to the fish for idle amusement.  
  
She couldn't help smiling a bit, though. It was good to be living in a time of relative peace, when fish were fed good, white bread and were looked at as pets, not as a source of desperately needed protein.  
  
It would take time, work, and yes, massive sacrifice, but Mother knew that the day would come when no one would ever need starve again. She fingered the carved pendant she wore at her throat. Hers was a terrible burden, and she had made many difficult choices, but in the end, it would all be worth it. It had to be.  
  
"Mercury *promised* that she'd meet me," Sun repeated. She sounded a little worried. "What if she isn't there?" She paused, thinking hard about the matter. "What if she gets lost?"  
  
"She won't get lost, dear. Mercury promised she would meet you tomorrow night at the place where you killed the golem. You do remember where that is, right?"  
  
Sun rolled over so that she could sit up. The rest of the bread fell into the pond, forgotten in her enthusiasm. "It was so neat! Venus killed *two* of them all by herself! She just pointed at them," she said, pointing straight at Mother, "and zap!"  
  
"It sounds like someone's been training them quite well." She imagined that Serenity's cats would be able to help the girls reconstruct much of what they had learned from better, more capable teachers. "Did they have a lot of trouble with the golems?"  
  
Sun giggled. "One of them chased Mercury all over the junkyard. It was really funny."  
  
"I doubt Mercury thought it was very funny," Mother said sternly. "You need to be careful about laughing at people, remember? Do you like it when people laugh at you when you do something wrong?"  
  
Sun thought about that for a while, then shook her head.  
  
"Very good. I have a brief errand to run, so I'll let you sit out here in the sun for another half-hour..."  
  
"Awww!"  
  
"...and then I'll send someone to bring you inside, and you are *not* to argue or beg for them to give you five more minutes, do you understand?"  
  
The girl nodded, but she was pouting again. Mother bit her lips together and reminded herself that she was not going to give in.  
  
She'd been working with Sun for over two years, *trying* to mold the girl into a proper soldier, someone who could work alongside the Senshi. The girl was a good enough fighter, but her mind... Well, you had to work with what you were given, and they'd had very little choice in the matter.  
  
At first, Mother thought that maybe they'd made a horrendous and costly mistake. To get the girl to retain anything in her head for more than five minutes at a time, they had to repeat things over, and over, and over, knowing that one bout with confusion or frustration could very well knock them right back to the starting line. That made the girl nearly impossible to scold. Repetition, reward, and praise were the only things that consistently worked.  
  
Then there were the questions--the *interminable* questions! Sun was so much like the Elephant's Child in Kipling, full to the brim of 'satiable curiosity. At first, Mother tried to train the habit out of the girl, but after a while, she began to enjoy and look forward to the somewhat surreal conversations that they'd have. For Sun, because of her memory, everything in the world was brand new every morning. It was hard not to be caught up in that wonder and enthusiasm, and after a while, it ceased to be quite so annoying.  
  
Maybe it was familiarity, maybe it was that Mother had poured so much of herself into the girl, but she discovered that she had grown rather fond of her little soldier. If she wasn't careful, she might allow herself to forget what was at stake, and become lax about Sun's training.  
  
That could be disastrous.  
  
"Good girl! We need to work on your manners before you go to meet the Senshi. I want to be sure that you'll make a good impression. Now, would you like me to have Takeo-kun bring you some magazines to look at while you're sitting out here?"  
  
"Yeah!" A broad smile lit up her face. All was forgiven, and very likely, forgotten.  
  
As she walked out of the garden, Mother signaled to one of the servants and told him about the magazines. Just before she disappeared into the house, she heard a faint splash.  
  
"Dear, please! *Don't* touch the fish!"  
  
  
  
11:55 p.m.  
  
  
  
It was never difficult to find Kakos. If he wasn't in the sculpture room, all one had to do was follow the trail of slime, insect wings, and corroded linoleum.  
  
Skotos drifted down the underground corridor. Thanks to those hideous fluorescent lights, there were very few hard shadows, but Skotos had learned how to travel in the faint shadows *above* the light fixtures. Normally, it could travel even in full light, but not when it was carrying a burden.  
  
Fortunately, Kakos was in the first place it looked. The sculpture room was lit only by a couple of incandescent lamps, so Skotos was able to take nearly solid form.  
  
The sculpture room was nothing more than an outdated boiler room under the local elementary school. It wasn't an ideal place to work, but Skotos and Kakos hadn't been given much choice.  
  
Kakos worked at a wooden platform made of two-by-fours, reinforced plywood, and cinderblocks. The concrete floor was not only pitted with acid, but spattered with random blobs of mud, clay, wax, and to Skotos' mild surprise, chunks of pink insulation and scraps of duct tape. What on earth was Kakos up to now?  
  
Two forms stood on the platform. Both were roughly human-shaped. One was stationary. The other moved around it in a shifting, constantly buzzing cloud. Kakos's bulk was masked by a writhing skin of insects, grubs, and spiders. Occasionally, the living skin would part to show a patch of slimy gray-green underneath, and let a drop of gummy acid fall to the floor. For whatever reason, the insects usually steered clear of Kakos's huge, frog- like face.  
  
Skotos drew itself together into a small, fine-limbed shadow by the side of the platform. It looked rather like a rapidly done and impressionistic charcoal sketch of a child.  
  
It bent down and picked up a bit of the insulation. "What is this for?"  
  
"Exper'ment. Din't work."  
  
Skotos drifted into the air and circled the golem. It noted that Kakos appeared to be building this one on a metal armature. "Are you still trying to improve them? Why?"  
  
"'Erself din't say not to," Kakos said, "an' it gives me somethin' to do, right? It's not like she lets me get out an' about any. 'S torture, it is, listenin' to all them kiddies runnin' round up there between classes, and me not bein' able to go up there an' have meself some fun. B'sides," he said thumping one hand to his chest and noisily squashing a host of insects, "I got the soul of an artiste!"  
  
Kakos laughed. It was a hiccupping, gurgling noise that sounded as if it was just this side of erupting like a backed up septic tank. "'Ere. Wanna take a closer look?"  
  
Kakos swiveled the gooseneck lamps away from the golem so that Skotos could see it more clearly. Skotos drew in closer and became solid enough to give the armature an experimental wiggle. The metal skeleton appeared to be nothing more than unconnected sections of rusty rebar.  
  
"Didja see the bits o' glass in there? I snuck out last night and shattered the window in the principal's office."  
  
Indeed, several fragments of glass peeked out from the latest covering of clay and mud. Skotos slid back down to the ground. Interesting that Kakos had admitted to sneaking out.  
  
"The metal and glass won't animate," it said.  
  
Kakos picked up an old paint bucket full of clumpy mud. He poured in a half- liter of pig's blood and gave it a thorough stir. "Don't need it to. The clay an' mud around it'll move just fine. This beauty'll do a lot of damage when she's done. So, did 'Erself send yuh down 'ere for somethin'?"  
  
"Yes. She believes that someone might try to attack the old man."  
  
Kakos grumbled tectonically. "Don't know why 'Erself just don't do away with'im. 'Es a liability, 'e is."  
  
Skotos made a motion that could have been interpreted as a shrug. "I wouldn't tell Her Ladyship that if I were you."  
  
"Nah. Course not. I ain't stupid. So what does 'Erself want me to do 'bout it?"  
  
Skotos moved its burden through its form and dropped it on the edge of the platform. Once the burden was released, it expanded and faded in relief. It suspected that Her Ladyship assigned it these painful tasks as a reminder of just how much it owed her.  
  
"I know how yuh feel," Kakos said. "It's a relief when somethin' like that passes. I know that I need a good cup o' coffee in the mornin' to get things unblocked..."  
  
Skotos really, really did not want to hear about its partner's digestive problems.  
  
"Do you have any golems ready to be shipped out for marking?" it asked. "Her Ladyship wants to send at least four out to protect the old man."  
  
Kakos jerked its slimy head towards the back wall. "Yuh. Got seven blanks. Three of 'em are the new, improved model, all crystaled up and ready t'go. I was gonna break up the others fer parts." It laughed again. "They keep teachin' the kiddies 'bout recyclin'. Figger I should do my bit for the envir'ment, hey?"  
  
"Don't break them up." Skotos indicated the pile of crystals it had put on the edge of the platform. "Load up the four blanks with these. Her Ladyship said she'd send a truck by this afternoon to pick up whatever you had."  
  
A stream of fire ants, carpet beetles, and millipedes flowed down Kakos's leg and over to the crystals. They swarmed around the crystals and carried them swiftly back up their master's leg and over to his hand.  
  
Kakos counted out eight crystals. "Huh. These are different." It jumped off the platform, and hopped like a toad over to the blank golems. It quickly sorted through the crystals and inserted two into each of the four not-new and not-improved golems. "There we go! Not sure what 'Erself is up to, but so what? 'Ours is not to wonder why, ours is but to do an' make others die.'"  
  
"Absolutely. I have to say, Kakos, that your hanging around a school has changed your character somewhat."  
  
"Can't 'elp it. The lessons carry down the air ducts. All I'll say is that it's good to actually be doin' somethin' fer a change." He paused, apparently thinking something over. "Funny, though. Now that we're goin' forward after all these years, it's even 'arder to wait, innit?"  
  
"I know what you mean," Skotos lied.  
  
Unlike Kakos, Skotos found it easy to be patient. It was designed to wait, after all. It was the gloom in the cave, the despair in the heart, the dark of the coffin. Yes, they had waited for nearly a century for this plan to take shape, and in an abstract way it could understand Kakos' desire to see carnage and to feast on the bodies of the fallen. Still, after an eon of imprisonment, Skotos was delighted to see that its essence still inhabited this earth. It was forbidden from direct action, but oh, how the past century had entertained!  
  
It had frolicked along the Somme in 1916. It hid in the corruption of gas- burned lungs and followed hundreds of thousands of soldiers as they sank into the shell-churned mud, never to see daylight again. In 1918, just ten years after its release, it sat in a cellar in Ekaterinburg and laughed itself sick as bullets and bayonets mowed down a family that had once been one of the most powerful in Europe and Asia. Only a year later it watched from sickroom corners as a simple influenza virus wiped out millions of lives--many of them young and strong and full of promise--as it would watch a still deadlier virus rampage through Africa in the latter part of the century. It wandered through Oklahoma when dust storms hid the sun and despair darkened the eyes of mothers whose bodies were too starved to offer even a sip of milk to their squalling brats.  
  
It marveled at the minds that created places like Bergen-Belsen, Dachau, and Auschwitz. It was astounded by the resolve of a man who named himself after steel, and who systematically purged his nation of its brightest lights and greatest minds, sending them into the darkness of death or simply into a frozen wasteland where their light was dulled and eventually extinguished by the rigors of day to day survival.  
  
Such darkness! Such lovely, lovely darkness! And how wonderful that Skotos did not have to possess or coerce anyone to make this darkness spread like a brush fire. Some of this darkness came from the stricken Earth itself, but much, much more came from the hearts and minds of humanity. Even better than the darkness that spread on a global scale was the darkness that plagued mankind at hearth and home. Lovers throughout the world destroyed each other emotionally and physically, and called it love. Parents feasted off of their children's dreams, or even broke the little darlings to pieces in body and spirit. As the darkness continued to spread, the humans became less and less aware of it, and except for a few interfering souls, were content to watch their friends and neighbors be consumed by darkness and despair. Why, to truly plunge this world into everlasting darkness, Skotos would barely have to lift a finger (not that it *had* any fingers, of course).  
  
With that kind of advantage, thought Skotos, how could they *not* win?  
  
Kakos hopped back over to the platform. "Tell 'Erself that she's got 'er four golems, an' four others for the usual purpose. Did she ever say why she wanted those three wi'out crystals?"  
  
"No. I didn't think it was any of my business," Skotos said. It thought for a bit. "Four and four is eight, Kakos. You only have seven golems."  
  
"This one'll be done by the time the truck gets 'ere. She's 'bout done," he said as he used a putty knife to smear the mud and blood mixture over the golem's body, covering up the metal and glass. "I just got to put some more clay on top. I already got the crystals in 'er." He smiled at the golem, revealing a mouth full of acid-blackened teeth so jagged that it suggested he had teethed on cast iron and bricks. "'Ere love, how's about a kiss?"  
  
Kakos lunged forward, his wide open mouth revealing row upon row of serrated teeth. He clamped onto the golem's head and ripped out a chunk of clay, mud, and glass. He chewed once, twice, then spit the wad out onto the floor, where it continued to burn and dissolve in Kakos's acid sputum.  
  
He smiled again, gazing lovingly at the screaming, smoking mouth his kiss had given the thing. "Is this a great job or what?"  
  
  
  
# # #  
  
  
  
Author's notes: Again, apologies for the long time in between postings. Aside from the fact that this chapter is much longer than the others, two scenes got cut, two more were moved to a later chapter, and the opening scene had to be rewritten.  
  
I hope Setsuna's explanations about the Eunomia didn't get too confusing or boring. I will try to vary the way in which I present exposition so that it stays interesting. Suggestions and feedback are always welcome.  
  
For the bit about Metallia escaping from the Sun, see p. 25 in volume three of the manga.  
  
Special Disclaimers: Anita VanBuren, Lennie Briscoe, and Ed Green are all property of NBC Pictures and Wolf Films. John Munch was the property of Fontana, Levinson, and Baltimore Pictures, but has since moved on to the Law & Order universe. Barbara Havers and Thomas Lynley are the creations of Elizabeth George (highly recommended reading). 


	9. Hidden Agendas

Empire of the Sun

by Sophia Prester

Disclaimers: See Chapter One.

Author's Notes:

A quick reminder: except for a large part of the first season and a few other incidents, I'm following the manga continuity. I'll explain more at the end if you feel like reading it.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Hidden Agendas 

Friday, July 6

3:50 p.m.

"You aren't falling asleep on me, are you, Mamo-chan?" Usa-ko teased.

Mamoru shifted the phone to his other ear. Maybe he should sit up instead of lying down on the couch. If he did fall asleep while talking to Usa-ko, she'd never let him live it down. "I'm not far from it. I didn't get home from the hospital until one in the morning, I had to do two hours of reading on the day's cases, and then I had to get up at six for a seven-thirty lecture." Sometimes he wished he hadn't taken the accelerated path to medical school.

"Do you still want to go out tonight?" she asked. "If you're too tired..."

Mamoru knew she wouldn't hold it against him if he begged off, but he'd still feel guilty. Even though their love had survived both death and time, it had never before faced the third year of medical school.

Far too many of his classmates had gone through breakups thanks to the hellish demands of third-year clinical rotations. Couples who'd once been joined at the hip now barely spoke to each other. So, he went out of his way to spend time with Usa-ko. In return, she had learned to become less demanding of the little time he did have. He'd never tell her so, but sometimes he was glad that Kenji-san had insisted that they wait until next year to get married. Maybe things would have settled down by then.

"I've got an idea. You look at the movie timetable and pick out any movie that you want to see..."

"_Any_ movie?" she asked, more than a little doubtfully.

He winced. The last time he'd made that offer he had slapped so many qualifications on 'any' that they'd almost ended up not going at all. "Yes, any, just as long..."

He heard a sigh at the other end of the phone.

"Just as long as it starts _after_ seven-thirty," he said firmly. "I'll pick you up at seven. I reserve the right to sleep-unmolested-throughout the entire movie. Afterwards, we'll go out to dinner. We can stop for an ice-cream before the movie so that you don't go insane from hunger."

"I do _not_ go insane from hunger," she huffed, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Usa-ko, according to my texts on nutrition and metabolism, you are an impossibility."

"What!" she screeched.

"You're far too easy to tease," he laughed. "Still, I shouldn't say that you're an impossibility. You're a miracle."

"Mamo-chan..."

He must really be tired. Normally, he didn't say these kinds of things, and he really should say them more often. It meant so much to Usa-ko.

"You are," he insisted. He didn't know how to explain what she had done for him. He could say that she had given him his life, but that was too simple a statement to describe how her warmth had filled all of the cold, empty corners that had been his life for as long as he could remember. It was easy to think these things, but hard to say them without feeling like an idiot.

"You aren't going to make some joke about my being able to pass my entrance exams or not, are you?" she asked, trying to drag even more kind words out of him.

"Of course not! If you don't get into college this time around, we'll elope and deal with your parents later." He heard her giggle on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry we can't do anything more exciting than having me sit there and take a nap while you watch a movie. I do get a couple of weeks off when you go on summer break. The first nice day we have, we'll go to the Imperial Gardens together, just you and me."

"Promise?"

"Promise. We'll spend the whole day together, and there'll be no talk of school or exams or anything else like that." He'd even let her go on about wedding plans if she wanted to. Personally, he'd rather elope, but he knew that Usa-ko and Ikuko-san would never go for it. Neither would the rest of the girls-they were looking forward to being bridesmaids. If he even hinted that he was thinking of such a thing, Mako-chan would probably hand him his liver on a plate.

"Do you think the roses will still be blooming?" she asked wistfully.

"I'll make sure they are," he said through a yawn, somehow certain that he could. Where did _that_ idea come from? He'd better get off the phone before he started babbling in his sleep. "I'm going to take a nap before we go out. Could you do me a small favor? Could you call me around six-thirty to make sure that I'm awake"

She would. After a few "I love you" exchanges and the inevitable two or three last bits of gossip that Usa-ko just had to tell him, she got off the line so he could get some sleep.

After a few seconds of listening to dead air, he realized that he really should hang up. Once he did that, he let the handset fall to the floor beside him. He was just too tired to get up to go across the room to put it on the receiver to re-charge.

It sounded like Usa-ko had stopped stressing about the investigation. That was a relief. With a possible new enemy—(what did they want _this_ time?)—she would have enough to worry about. Maybe it would be over soon, he thought drowsily. He didn't even try to fight off sleep any more. There would be nothing to worry about because pretty soon the police would realize that his parents' death was nothing more than an accident...

_I was six_

...and that there was nothing more that he could tell them...

_he wasn't chasing us no he wasn't he wasn't he was a friend he would never hurt me hurt us what is he doing why is he doing this where are we going mama why are you crying_

...so they'd eventually give up...

_auntie gave me a twig and I gave her a rose and she told me I was such a good boy such a clever boy but I knew she was mad at me why is he chasing us mama why are you crying and the sun was in my eyes it was bright so bright it was burning me and then I woke up it was my princess my dream girl she gave me a rose and smiled at me she had a new baby brother so she gave me a rose and that's when I fell in love_

...and they'd leave him alone. As he fell into sleep, his mind carefully shepherded the wayward childhood memories back to the shadowy places where even their very existence would once again be safely forgotten, leaving him only the memory of a golden-haired child handing him a red, red rose. The dangerous memories were put away. Once again, if asked what his first memory was, he would only be able to tell of moonlight on gold and the scent of roses.

* * *

4:00 p.m. 

The next time she saw a maroon station wagon, Saori decided, she'd fire an anti-tank weapon at it.

Until she'd started slogging through these records, she never would have imagined that maroon would be such a popular color for a car. At first, she'd been under the impression that they'd find only one name that couldn't be traced, and that would lead them magically to Mamoru's parents. Wrong. So far she'd found five untraceable records and four other vehicles that she'd have to research, and that was only after going through half of the printout.

"Welcome to the exciting world of police work," she grumbled, repeating Wright's words for the hundredth time that day.

"Think of it as archaeology," Keisuke said. Saori fumbled her pen. She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud.

"I'm sorry, Takamori-san. I meant no disrespect."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said cheerfully. "It's dull, repetitive work, and ninety-nine percent of what you end up looking at is completely useless. Still, it's that remaining one percent that leads us to solid convictions more than anything else."

He had a point. Even so, she'd rather be out with Seidou and Wright interviewing the social worker who'd handled Mamoru's foster care placement. She shivered. She'd always known he was an orphan, but she'd never known the circumstances. She'd also assumed that whatever it was had happened when he was older.

He had also never told her that the first six years of his life were a complete blank. According to Seidou, his real name had been lost along with his parents.

She had grown up taking the idea of family for granted. To her, family was far more than a mother, father, and brother. It was not being able to remember when or how she'd learned that she had a great uncle whose plane had gone down into the Pacific at the battle of Midway, or that her father's family could trace its lineage back over four hundred years to some of the most noble houses in all of Japan. Although it was no longer in their family, she knew exactly what her great-great-grandfather's katana looked like-she could go see it any time she liked at the Sword Museum, where it was given pride of place as a registered National Treasure.

Far more important to her, however, were the so-called 'little things.' It was seeing in mirrors and photographs that her blue-green eyes were exactly like her grandfather's. It was knowing the exact location of the house where her grandmother had been born, even though it had been destroyed in the 1923 earthquake. Her mother still used the vase that her great-grandmother had found miraculously intact among the rubble.

There was hardly anywhere she could go in the city of Tokyo where she could not find some reminder of who she was and from where she had come. Even the furniture her parents had given her for her first apartment had a history. The green card-table with the cigarette burn had hosted her grandmother's bridge and mah-jongg parties. The sagging couch was the first item of furniture her parents had bought as a newly married couple.

What would it be like not to have these connections to your past? What would it be like not to know who you really were?

She thought back to her first impression of Mamoru's apartment. She'd known that he wasn't the type to have a sloppy bachelor's pad. What struck her, however, was how neat and impersonal it was. It was a blank slate. A stage set. Even the pieces that were obviously second-hand had an unused quality to them. If Mamoru himself had not been there to serve them coffee, she would have thought that the place was simply an efficiency suite in a nice hotel.

She shook her head and turned back to the motor vehicle records. How could anyone live like that?

After a few minutes, she realized that she had just flipped through three pages of the printout without even reading them. Why couldn't they go into Motor Vehicles' current database and pull up this information with a simple query? If they did, she might make it to the end of the day without going blind.

"It wouldn't hurt anything," Keisuke said when she asked him. He continued to think about it for a moment, twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Even so, just keep going through those records for now. It might be interesting to see how current records match up to those," he said, more to himself than to her.

She sighed and went back to work.

Even though the terror of being reprimanded by Seidou had probably sheared years off of her life, and even though her current task was the grown-up equivalent of standing outside the classroom door holding buckets of water, Saori congratulated herself for getting involved in this case. There was no way to tell what would happen if Seidou got any inkling that this case touched the edges of the supernatural.

Usagi Tsukino was Sailor Moon. Saori knew that, and Mamoru knew that. Unfortunately, that was not the only secret that Mamoru was keeping. When that red-haired 'foreigner' had attacked them and shackled her to a board that had come from out of nowhere, Mamoru had shown surprise, but not shock. It was obvious that he knew what the creature was and what it had wanted.

She shivered. One thing she would never forget was what it had been like to have the protective covering ripped off of her thoughts and dreams, and then to have those dreams carelessly pawed through by a stranger. She had screamed in horror, but the strange man didn't care, if he even noticed at all. Every dream of hers, no matter how private or embarrassing or precious was picked up and tossed aside as if it was nothing more than a piece of old clothing in a thrift-shop bin.

She remembered bits and pieces she had heard during the fight. She learned that what had happened to her had happened to others. Who? How many? Did they still suffer from nightmares? Did they sometimes wonder if everyone could see right into their innermost thoughts and hopes? Did they feel as if their fondest dreams no longer shone quite so clearly?

There were crimes and criminals that the police could never hope to deal with-she knew that now. She didn't want to believe in monsters and magic and everything that went along with believing in these things, but she could not deny what she had seen and experienced. Fortunately, there were soldiers out there who could fight these things and make sure that justice was done.

The least she could do was to try to help them by making sure that the police didn't interfere with their activities. She'd heard a lot of talk about the Sailor Senshi at the station, and not all of it was complimentary.

Besides, she had to help her friend. She didn't allow herself to dwell on why she was so eager to help Mamoru or what she hoped to gain from it. That dream had been battered enough as it was.

How to help, though? Seidou would most likely see right through any attempt to steer her away from a line of inquiry. The best thing, she thought, was to try to get this case closed as soon as possible. Everything would be neatly wrapped up, and Seidou would have no reason to go after Mamoru and his girlfr... fiancee.

"Keisuke-san, do you think it would hurt anything if I gave Mamoru-kun a call?" she asked sheepishly. If she played this right, there was a good chance he'd go along with it. "Since I'm an old friend of his, he might open up a bit more to me than he would to you or to Seidou-san."

"Well, that would depend on what questions you were planning to ask him," Keisuke said, rather slowly. "Also, do you really want to risk him thinking that you're using your friendship with him to get something?"

He gave her a pointed look, very much the same kind of look her father gave her when she was considering doing something unwise.

"He knows me well enough to know that I'm only trying to help," she said. That came out more defensive sounding than she liked. "I know he'd be cooperative if I talked to him."

Keisuke's expression was almost a parody of that of a man in deep thought. He was going to make her sweat over this one. She didn't mind. She knew that being a woman in this profession was going to be difficult, but she was determined to succeed-and to do so without becoming a bitter old spinster like Seidou-san.

"Please?" she asked as meekly as she could.

"Oh, why not?" he said. His eyes showed kind amusement. "You could do with the break. There are a couple of rules, however. Don't ask him about the crash itself, or make any references to murder. Seidou-san thinks that he might be repressing the memory, and if you scare him off even more..." He let the sentence hang, allowing her imagination to supply details on all of the awful things that might happen should this occur. "Ask him about this Fushiawase place. If he thinks we're concentrating on how his paper trail was fudged, he might be less anxious."

"Oh, thank you, Keisuke-san!" She reached for the phone, but Keisuke cleared his throat.

"I'm listening in," he said, picking up his own telephone and punching a few buttons. It was clear that this point was not negotiable.

Great. Just great. If she backed out, or if she tried to warn Mamoru to watch what he said, that would only increase the likelihood of them thinking that Mamoru had something to hide.

Keisuke raised one eyebrow as he saw her dial Mamoru's number from memory. The phone rang several times, and just as she thought the answering machine was going to pick up, she heard a click, a clatter, and then a very groggy "Hello? Usa-ko? Is it six-thirty already?"

"Mamoru-kun, it's me—Saori," she said, trying to keep her voice level. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Huh? Oh, don't worry about it," he mumbled. "I had to get up anyway."

_Liar_, she mouthed to a grinning Keisuke. "You'll never guess what case I've been assigned to as a research assistant" she said. "It turns out that the irregularities in your foster-home placement is opening a whole can of worms, bureaucratically speaking." Her fingers were crossed. If she could suggested that this was no longer a homicide case, maybe he'd be less squirrelly. Keisuke was nodding his head in approval.

"That's weird," Mamoru said. He sounded much more awake. "What kind of irregularities are we talking about?"

"Apparently there's no official record of the first place you were sent after your parents' accident. We were hoping that you might be able to remember something about the place. According to what we've been able to piece together, you spent some time at a boy's home-someplace named Fushiawase. That's where the trail ends."

"Fushiawase? Boy's home?" he said as if it was the first time he'd ever heard the name. "What on earth are you talking about? The only time I was in an orphanage was for a couple of months back in '94, when I was between foster families."

Saori looked to Keisuke for help, but he only shrugged. "Your records say that you weren't placed with the Monou family until 1989, _after_ you were released from something called the Fushiawase Home for Boys."

"Then the records are wrong."

Saori and Keisuke both rolled their eyes at this remark. Saori fought off a fit of the giggles.

"So you were with the Monou family ever since the accident."

Keisuke shook his head. He scribbled a note and held it up for her. _Don't suggest answers. Let him talk_.

"Saori-san..."

"Mamoru-kun, this investigation might be the one chance you have to find out who your parents were. We can't bring them back, but wouldn't you at least like to know what kind of people they were, what they looked like, and all that?"

Keisuke mimed playing a violin.

_You're not helping_, she mouthed.

"Saori-san, you have no idea how much time and money I've already spent trying to finding that out."

She refrained from telling him that Seidou already had a neatly typed report with just that information, right down to the numbers and dates on the checks he'd written to the private investigator.

"But not with the kind of resources that we have! Please?" she wheedled. "For all you know, you may have family out there somewhere. You're getting married soon, right? It seems to me like this is the kind of thing you'd like to know before the wedding."

Before the wedding that would have someone else as his bride, she told herself firmly. It was funny (well, not really), but every time she thought she was over him, something would happen to re-kindle that little flame of hope. It wasn't fair to her, it wasn't fair to him, and it sure as heck wasn't fair to Kobayashi.

Saori pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes in frustration. Mamoru wasn't hers. Why couldn't she just let go of this one part of herself that still insisted on being in love with him? She refused to listen to that traitorous whisper that reminded her that engagements could be broken.

"There was another family," Mamoru said slowly. He sounded like he was figuring all this out as he went. "I was with them before I went to live with the Monous."

Keisuke gave her a V-for-victory sign. She thought about what to ask next, but Keisuke held one finger to his lips. "Let him talk," he whispered.

The next few seconds were agonizing.

"I can't remember their family name," Mamoru finally said. She wished he wouldn't sound so defeated. She was only trying to help him, after all. "I do remember that we could see Tokyo from the back deck. I... I think that we could see the city from across the water. It was a three-story house, brick, with big white pillars in front. I remember that because it was the first time I'd seen anything like that outside of a movie." He laughed. "I actually thought it was a palace."

Keisuke reached across to Seidou's desk and grabbed a road atlas. He flipped through the maps until he found one that showed the entire area surrounding Tokyo Bay. He began tracing one finger down the eastern coastline of the bay.

She continued to jot down notes. "I guess it would seem that way to a six-year-old," she said. "Anything else?"

Keisuke scribbled another note and handed it to her.

_Geography. Architecture. Trees, light, other houses, rds, ldmrks, how much H2O, directly on H2O, noise, etc._

She nodded her understanding. Keisuke continued to study the map while Saori asked questions. From time to time, he would make a pencil mark on the map. This was more like a conversation than an interrogation, she thought. A gradual picture of the Fushiawase Home—if that's what the place was—put itself together in her mind. It was on a piece of forested land with a steep hill leading right down to a narrow and rocky beach. He couldn't recall seeing any tourists there. The bricks of the house were mellowed with age, almost pink, and it had what she gathered was a mansard roof with a railing along the top. There were no other houses that he could see from the property.

There were gardens, and she had to smile at his enthusiastic recollection of a fountain, of hedges that had been trimmed to look like animals and of an orchard that had apple, pear, and plum trees. He was amazingly vague about the flower gardens, although it sounded like those took up the majority of the property. He didn't get any more specific about the flowers except to say that there were "lots." They probably hadn't interested him as much as the circus-like topiary and an orchard full of fruit free for the taking. Typical guy, she thought.

Keisuke seemed puzzled by something, but shook his head when he caught her questioning glance. Oh well, if it was important, he'd tell her later. Maybe.

Mamoru also mentioned being able to see a mountain from the house, and said that he had visited this mountain a couple of times. When he said that it appeared that he could see the whole world from this mountain, Keisuke got visibly excited, but once again shook his head when she tried to get him to tell her what was going on.

As soon as she started to ask him about the people he'd lived with, his answers became shorter and sharper. He was beginning to sound downright hostile when Keisuke slashed his hand across his throat. Cut that line of inquiry. She asked a few more questions about the place itself and he calmed down, but he was running out of things to tell her.

"I remember something else," he said just as she was about to give up. "A gate. There was a high, brick wall with a gate that always made me think of a bed frame for some reason. The gateposts had statues on top. Damn! I keep picturing them as being like the lion-dogs that guard a shrine gate, but I know that's not right. Saori-san, I don't mind telling you all of this, but I don't see how it's going to help you."

"Maybe we'll get lucky," she said. "I really, really appreciate this, Mamoru-kun! I hope I can find something out about your family for you."

Once she was off the phone, Keisuke slid the atlas across the desk to her. One city, across the bay from Tokyo proper, had been circled in red marker.

"Kisarazu?" she asked. It was due south of Tokyo, and east and a little bit south of Yokohama. Both cities were separated from Kisarazu by Tokyo Bay. She chuckled when she saw that Keisuke had underlined the prefecture label for 'Chiba' on the map. Someone had an interesting sense of humor, she decided.

"I'm actually thinking about that little spit of land that points across the water towards Yokohama," Keisuke said, tapping his finger on the map. "To a six year old, a city is a city. He might not have known the difference between the two places. The mountain is what twigged it for me. From the way he described it, it sounds like he's talking about Nokogiri. It's not far from the water, and on a clear day you get the most amazing view from the top-pretty much the entire Tokyo area and a good chunk of the Boso Peninsula."

As Keisuke called the Kisarazu police department with a description of the house, Saori traced the two-dimensional coastline slowly. She should be thrilled by how much they'd discovered, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had somehow betrayed one of her dearest friends.

* * *

5:10 p.m. 

It was too nice of an evening to stay inside, and it was _definitely_ too nice of an evening to be studying. Makoto looked through her dresser drawer for just the right tee-shirt to wear to the park. Nobody had made any plans for that night. Well, Usagi was doing something with Mamoru, but that was only to be expected on one of his rare free nights.

Makoto pursed her lips when she thought about her friend. Usagi had said very little about what happened at the shrine last night. At lunch, when Ami asked her how she was doing, Usagi laughed off the previous night's events, flapping her hand as if shooing the question out the door.

"Oh, don't worry about me" she'd said. "I still can't believe that I acted like such a loony-bird! It seems like I'm always doing something to embarrass you guys, doesn't it?"

The usual round of protests and denials followed this, then the topic shifted back to entrance exams, and the 'party' at the Hikawa Shrine on Saturday. While Minako and Ami discussed Sailor Sun in guarded terms, Makoto kept an eye on Usagi. Her friend was paying unusually close attention to the conversation about this new Senshi, but at the same time, she seemed to be thinking of something else. In afternoon classes, Usagi appeared to focus intently on what the teacher was saying, but Makoto could tell that her mind was somewhere else-not daydreaming, but working through some thorny problem.

When Usagi figured it out, or if she decided she needed help, Makoto told herself firmly, she would tell her friends what was going on. In the meantime, there was little sense in worrying about something she couldn't do anything about. She should just be glad that Usagi wasn't acting all shaky and fragile the way she'd often been over the past year.

Makoto finally found a suitable shirt-white and cropped with three sunflowers lined up across the chest. Dark green shorts and some flower-sprigged ankle socks completed the ensemble. She was only going to the local park to shoot a few hoops, but she wanted to look nice just in case any eligible guys happened to be in the area.

Not bad, she thought after checking in the mirror for a third time. Athletic, yet sweet. Just the impression she wanted to give.

She shoved her basketball into her gym bag and headed out towards the park, hoping to find a pick-up game in progress, or at least a couple of people who were hanging around waiting for one to start.

No such luck. The two basketball courts at the park were completely deserted. A little further in the distance, some people were playing volleyball. She started to wander down that way, but then she noticed that the players were a mix of adults and kids. She saw an array of picnic baskets and strollers on the hillside overlooking the court, and grandfathers, mothers with babies, and others chatting and watching the game. She sighed and pulled out her basketball. Wheedling her way into a casual game was one thing. Crashing a family picnic was something else altogether.

Well, someone might show up, she supposed. She shot a few half-hearted free throws between longing gazes at the family gathering. Occasionally she heard a peal of laughter. Maybe someone over there would spot her and take pity on her. Sometime this summer, she vowed, she would organize a picnic for the others. She could invite Motoki and Unazuki, and maybe even Asanuma and what's-her-name from Rei's school. They could all relax and have fun together without worrying about keeping any secrets.

"Waiting for a game to start up?" someone asked from behind her.

Makoto nearly fumbled the ball. She turned to see who it was. A tall blond man stood at the other end of the court. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him at first. She thought she remembered meeting him, but he'd been wearing a suit, not a tee shirt and shorts.

He walked over towards her. "I believe we met the other day, when I was looking for Seidou-san's apartment," he said just as she recalled how they'd met. He held out a hand in Western-style greeting and reintroduced himself. "Jason Wright."

Makoto tucked the ball under one arm and shook his hand. "Makoto Kino." Her mind whirled as she wondered what to do. If she'd guessed right, this was one of the people who was after Mamoru. She shook her head. Well, that was a rather harsh way of putting it. According to Mamoru, the whole incident was over nothing, but she wondered how much of that was true.

"What brings you here?" she asked, hoping it sounded friendly. If he wasn't here to press her for information on something, there was no point in scaring him off. He was kind of cute, and he seemed to be nice enough.

He shrugged. "I was going to go for a run before heading back to my host family's place, and I saw you out here shooting hoops all by yourself." He pulled on a lock of his hair and grinned. "I thought I recognized the pony-tail."

She smiled back, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest. Should she ask him if he wanted to play?

Unbidden, he held out his hands, silently asking her to pass him the ball. She did, and he caught the ball neatly. It was in his hands for barely a second before he launched it into a graceful arc. The ball swished through the net without even touching the rim.

Makoto caught the ball, and dribbled back to center court. She tried to make the same shot, but the ball bounced off the rim. Wright ran after it and walked back, dribbling the ball casually. She was able to get a good look at the picture on his white tee shirt-a tough-looking cartoon tortoise with a red letter 'M' on its chest.

"Is that from an American sports team?" she asked. Okay, she thought. Casual conversation is good.

Wright looked puzzled, then glanced down at his shirt. "Terrapins," he said. "It's the mascot for the University of Maryland. I played basketball for them for a couple of years."

She could see the flash of pride in his eyes. Was college-level basketball that big a deal in the States? She took another look at the cartoon on his shirt.

"Terrapin? That looks more like a turtle to me."

"It's a _kind_ of turtle." He jumped and lobbed in another effortless three-point shot.

She caught the rebound and passed the ball back to him. "They named a basketball team after a turtle?" She envisioned a tortoise nosing a ball slowly down the court.

"Those who name baseball teams after carp shouldn't point fingers," he said. Without warning, he chest-passed her the ball.

She caught it smoothly, bounced it a few times, then headed straight in towards the basket with Wright in close pursuit, then blocking her. She dodged around him at the last second to sink a jump-shot. Even so, his fingers brushed the ball as it rolled over the rim. He scooped up the rebound almost without thinking about it.

"Pretty good," he said. He dribbled up towards her, planning to tease her with the ball, but she knocked it away from him and sank another shot.

"_Very_ good," he amended. He passed her the ball and watched as she made a jump shot from outside the three-point line. He let her make two more perfect shots, then jumped up and intercepted the next one before it hit the basket. "Do you play for your school team?"

Damn. For a moment she'd hoped he had forgotten that she was in high-school. "No, there's no time, not with having to take care of my own place and get ready for college. The gardening and cooking clubs suck up what little free time I normally have," she said. He didn't need to know about her other extracurricular activities.

Dodge. Feint. He tossed the ball up with only one hand and watched with satisfaction as it fell neatly through the basket. Makoto beat him to the ball and nearly crashed into him as she swerved to make another shot. This one rolled along the rim, then fell neatly into Wright's hands. He smiled at her as he bounced the ball slowly.

"You played guard, didn't you?" she asked. The only reason she'd been able to dodge him was that she'd honed her skills fighting youma and daimon. Misreading one of their moves could mean losing your life, not just a couple of points.

"Yup." He dashed towards her, then danced around her, keeping the ball in motion, always managing to shift position as she was about to swipe the ball. He spun and scooped the ball into an arcing shot as he turned. It swooshed through the basket so neatly that the net barely moved. "Not quite good enough to go pro, however."

He could have fooled her. "So that's why you became a policeman, huh?"

He tapped his finger to his nose. "Got it in one. I must have told you about that when we ran into each other before," he said a little ruefully.

It sounded to her as if he'd been hoping she'd forgotten that little bit of information. Makoto decided that it was time to up the stakes a little bit. Otherwise, she might forget that getting interested in this guy was probably not the smartest thing she could do. "It's funny, but a good friend of mind said that a couple of detectives came to talk to him the other day. He said that one was a woman, and the other was an American."

He held out his hands, signaling for her to pass him the ball again. "Want to play to twenty-one?" he asked. "This friend of yours wouldn't happen to be Mamoru Chiba, would it?"

She walked up to him, handing over the ball instead of passing it. She considered him for a moment. "Twenty-one? I can live with that. And yeah, Mamoru-kun's a friend of mine. He's not in any trouble, is he?"

"Nah. This is a cold case—fourteen years old," he said. He backed away, shielding the ball as Makoto's hands snaked and darted after it. "He would have been only six, seven at most."

He sank a three point shot. Makoto grimaced. She hoped this wouldn't be a shut-out. They struggled for possession of the ball, and thanks to what was probably a foul, Makoto got hold of it and got herself two points.

"So what's the case about, Wright-san? Mamoru said it had something to do with what happened to him after his parents' death, but I kinda get the idea that there's more to it than that."

"Could be." He tried to get the ball, but Makoto was shielding it in a way that any real attempt to get at it would probably end up with someone being slapped hard across the face. "There were what you'd call 'suspicious circumstances' surrounding the accident."

That caught Makoto by surprise. Was that why Usagi had looked so haunted for the past couple of days? She made another shot, and held her breath as the ball teetered on the rim before falling through the basket. "Hah! I'm ahead! So, what do you mean by suspicious?"

This time, Wright got to the ball before she did. He outran her, jumping up for another three-point shot. "What was that about being ahead?" he teased.

Makoto grinned. He wasn't trouncing her—he could have, she could tell—but he wasn't cutting her any slack, either. She could win this little gamble, but only if she played at her best.

"What do I mean by suspicious?" he said. Because he was talking to her, he missed the next shot. "There's not much I can tell you about that. I probably shouldn't have said anything."

"Oh, come on!"

He shook his head. "Sorry. Not allowed. Seidou-san would flay me and nail my hide to the police station door if I said too much. I can tell you, however, that there was something funny about his foster care placement. How long have you known Chiba, anyhow"

"A little more than three years," she said.

"How did you two meet?"

Makoto got hold of the ball, and made another shot. Wright blocked it, and the ball went flying off the court and into the nearby playground. She giggled as Wright sprinted after it. He didn't look too bad from this angle, either.

"You need to make another basket before I can answer that," she said.

"Oh, is that how we're playing?" he said. His eyes twinkled with mischief. From the edge of the court he tossed the ball and sank another three-point shot. "Well?"

She caught the rebound and sighed theatrically. "Fine. _Be_ that way! He's engaged to one of my best friends. They'd met each other right before I moved here."

"Wow, two answers for the price of one!" he teased. Just for that, she punted the ball, soccer-style, and watched him go tearing off after it.

_Definitely_ good looking, she thought. She hoped he had nothing to do with this new enemy they might be facing.

At Makoto thirteen, Wright sixteen, the tone of the questions began to shift. Makoto flatly refused to divulge any more gossip about one of her dearest friends, and Wright kept reminding her that he could only tell her so much about an official case, but they'd fallen into the rhythm of asking a question for each basket made.

Two points for Makoto. "You speak better Japanese than some of my friends. Did you study in college?"

"I grew up in Yokohama. I was a Navy brat." Two points for him. "It's hard to believe you're only in high-school..."

Oh, rub it in, why don't you! she thought.

"... especially since you're on your own and everything."

It wasn't a question, but she answered it anyway since he'd gotten the points. "My parents died in a plane crash when I was eight," she said. "I've been on my own since I was thirteen."

He caught the ball and stood still for a moment, studying her. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to..."

She shrugged. Thinking about her parents brought with it the usual leaden feeling in her heart, but the grief grew lighter and lighter with each passing year. "It's okay. You had no way of knowing."

She made another three-point shot, bringing her score up to eighteen, tying the game and earning herself another question.

There were several questions she wanted to ask but couldn't. Did he think she was too young? Did he have a girlfriend back in the States? What made him decide to stop and talk to her?

"So, are you going to ask me a question or not?"

"I'm thinking! I'm thinking" Then, finally, "So what do you do when you're not being a cop?"

He laughed softly. "Oh, lots of things. Fishing, basketball, puttering around with old sports cars, playing with the dog, fixing stuff around the house, your typical guy stuff, I guess."

He sauntered towards the basket, making an easy two point shot. Interesting, thought Makoto. He could have made a three-pointer and ended the game.

"What do you plan to do once you're through with school?"

"I want to run a florist shop or a bakery," she said automatically. "I keep trying to figure out some way I can do both."

What I really plan to do is serve my King and Queen, she thought silently. I am the Senshi of Protection, and that is greater than any dreams of bouquets or fancily iced cakes.

For just a moment, she wondered what would happen if she told him the truth. He was a policeman, wasn't he? He of all people should understand what it was to live your life for the sake of protecting others.

"I bet you _could_ do both, if you really wanted to. I saw all of the plants out on your balcony-and if you've got any more cookies in need of a loving home, I think I might be able to help you out. It would be a great sacrifice," he said, his hand over his heart, "but I would gladly give of myself for the cause."

She was laughing so hard that she muffed her next shot. Wright scooped up the ball and casually lobbed it into the basket to bring the score to 22-18. She could live with that score, especially since she would have won if that last shot had gone through.

He passed the basketball back to her. "That was a good game," he said. "You're a pretty smart player."

"Really?" she said. She actually batted her eyelashes at him which made him laugh. "Are you talking about basketball or questions?"

"Both," he said. He took a close look at his shirt, then actually lifted one arm to give an experimental sniff. "That was more of a workout than I expected," he said. "I'd better run home and get cleaned up."

Makoto bounced the ball slowly. That was it? He was leaving? After just one measly game? Maybe she could suggest that they meet again at some other time...

"Um, I don't mean to be too forward or anything, but I enjoyed talking with you," he said hesitantly, as if trying to make up his mind about something. "I was thinking—if you'd like, that is—that I could go get cleaned up, meet you back at your place in about an hour or so and we could go get a cup of coffee or even something to eat. You up for that?" he asked, and he had the shyest, sweetest look on his face. "My treat, of course."

She blinked in surprise, then she could feel a broad smile spread across her face. Part of her was gibbering wildly, wondering what on earth to say, but there was only one real answer.

"Sure!"

* * *

6:13 p.m. 

He was surrounded by water. The light was dim and green, up and down were twisted every which way, and all he could hear was the sound of water rushing into an enclosed space. Something held him down. He tried to get free, but all he could do was flail his arms and legs.

Mamoru rolled over on the couch and groaned.

The image shifted. He could move, and he was no longer trapped in a small space, but he was still underwater. He was battered and exhausted, and his waterlogged cape dragged him down towards the bottom of Tokyo Bay. His lungs burned from lack of air. Any moment now, he'd give up fighting the urge to breathe and he'd gasp in the filthy water. It was inevitable, but he vowed to hold out as long as he could.

A greenish-golden light sped towards him. A man floated in the center of the light-a fair-haired man in a gray uniform. The man smiled, but it was a cruel smile, and energy pooled around his hand as he readied a deadly strike. Mamoru tried to gather his own power for one last defense, or even an attempt at escape, but he knew that he was going to die down there in the poisoned waters...

His eyes flew open. He saw nothing more threatening than the white stucco of his ceiling. For a moment or two he just lay still, gasping for air as if he had in fact just escaped from drowning.

It had been a long time since that particular dream had paid him a visit.

He checked his watch. Usa-ko would be calling in about fifteen minutes, so it wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep. He got up and went to the kitchen, replacing the cordless phone on the receiver on his way. What on earth had triggered that dream? It could have been Saori's unexpected call. One good thing had come of that-he could now assure Usa-ko and Artemis that this was only a matter of some mismanaged paperwork. Even though he'd suspected all along that this thing about his parents was a big fuss over nothing, he still felt absurdly relieved.

Maybe he'd had the dream because they were on the brink of facing another enemy. After all, the last time he dreamed about that final battle with Jadeite was during the struggle against the Dead Moon Circus, when Elysion's fall had cast a shadow over his lungs, filling them with Neherenia's corruption and nearly choking the life out of him.

Why would he dream about _that_ battle, out of all the battles he'd fought? He'd fought enemies that were a hell of a lot more frightening than Jadeite.

The memory of being trapped in a seat underwater flickered across the front of his mind, but it was forgotten again just as quickly.

He wavered between fixing a pot of coffee or brewing a cup of tea. Tea, he decided. After that dream, he needed to calm down as well as wake up.

During that last fight, when the two of them had plunged into the waters of Tokyo Bay, he'd only felt a need to defeat his enemy, this man who was standing in the way of his quest for his own identity and that of the woman in his dreams. He was pretty sure that he'd felt despair as he realized he was going to die with all of his questions unanswered, but now that those questions were mostly answered, it was hard to summon even a ghost of what he had felt on that day.

He watched the kettle. As the water heated, the kettle rocked on its warped bottom. He really should replace it, he thought for the hundredth time.

These days, the memory felt entirely different. It wasn't an enemy he fought, but a man who'd once been one of his best friends. As close as brothers, he thought, but the phrase was no more than a cliche. He had no family, so the words themselves didn't really mean anything to him. It was still the best way he could think to explain the aching sense of loss he felt whenever he recalled that cruel smile.

He poured the now-boiling water into a cup, and drank most of it down before even noticing that he'd forgotten to put in the tea bag. Strange, he thought, but his past-life friends hadn't seemed to recognize him. How had they come forward into this time, anyway? Had they been put into a cold sleep like Luna and Artemis, or had they been reborn along with him and the Senshi? His weary mind drifted from thought to thought as he made another attempt at tea, this time remembering to add the essential ingredient.

Hold on a moment... One thought managed to cut through the fog. It was something he hadn't really thought about before. He replayed the fight with Jadeite in his mind. How _had_ he escaped drowning? Something had happened at the last minute. Yes. That was it. He remembered, now.

He saw it clearly. The cruel smile on Jadeite's face froze, and the blue eyes grew wide. The smile faded to an expression of shock and confusion. The next thing Mamoru knew, he was clutching onto a piling at the bay's edge, gasping for breath.

Had Jadeite's memory started to return at the last moment? Had that moment's hesitation simply bought him enough time to escape, or had Jadeite actually spared his life at the last second? Too bad he would never know for sure. Mamoru took a sip of tea and thought about the other times he had fought against his former friends.

The battles with Zoisite had been particularly vicious, he recalled, and even now he felt a rush of fury as he thought about the effeminate general. Why? At the time, he'd fought the others simply because they were 'the enemy.' When he'd fought Zoisite, he fought out of a rage that went far beyond the fact that they were both after the Crystal. What was different in that particular case? Why did that betrayal seem so much worse than the others?

Mamoru drank down the rest of his tea in one painful gulp. He thought back to the last time he'd seen Zoisite, up in Tokyo Tower. Zoisite had tried to kill Sailor Moon, but instead ended up spearing Tuxedo Kamen through the back.

He remembered, just barely, the stunned look on Zoisite's face. At that moment, he had actually felt deeply sorry for the man. Zoisite hadn't just been surprised—he'd been horrified.

Had Zoisite remembered who and what he was, and realized what he had done?

Mamoru shook his head violently, as if trying to cast the thoughts from his head. He only had a few flashes of memory about the four as they once had been. He could remember the bond between cool, distant Kunzite and merry, impulsive Zoisite, and how contrary to what one might expect, Kunzite was the one of the group who felt things the most keenly, while Zoisite's normal whimsy could give way in a second to cold, ruthless logic. Then, there was the air of mystery and otherworldliness that hung over Nephrite like a cloak, and the wry sense of humor that colored everything Jadeite did or said.

It was impossible to think about them without a million 'what ifs' or 'if onlys' running through his mind. What if the Senshi had known who these men really were? If only they had been able to get to Nephrite before Zoisite's youma had killed him. If only he had not lost so much of his memory. What if Jadeite or Zoisite had truly started to remember who they were before it was too late? It went on and on and on.

The phone rang, startling him out of his reverie. He picked up the phone, but all he heard was a dial tone. So why was it still ringing?

Because it was the doorbell, not the phone. So much for being awake and alert. He put the phone back down and opened the door.

"Usa-ko?"

She stepped inside and kicked off her shoes. Her arms were full, so she stood on tip-toe and kissed him instead of giving him her usual bear-hug. She missed a little, just catching the corner of his mouth.

She wrinkled her nose. "You need to shave," she said. Then, she smiled. "I hope you don't mind my coming over instead of calling, but you sounded like you didn't really want to go out."

Mamoru eyed the covered dish that she held carefully in front of her. "Is that what I'm hoping it is?"

"Uh-huh! Mom fixed us something to eat. It was her idea that I let you off the hook for tonight." She put the dish on the coffee table and shrugged her tote bag off her shoulder. "I brought a couple of movies so you can pick the one you hate the least. If you don't mind me staying, that is."

He rested his hands on her shoulders, then lifted one hand so he could trace his fingers down her delicate jawline. "I think I can work you into my schedule," he said softly. He pulled her into an embrace and rested his cheek on top of her head, breathing in the sweet honeysuckle scent of her hair.

His friends and family may have been stripped away from him, in both this life and the last, but at least he still had this, the most important thing he could have in either life.

* * *

Usagi had the television on mute. It didn't bother her much, since she'd seen this movie twice already. Besides, she was much more interested in Mamo-chan. She looked down at him fondly and played gently with his hair, being careful not to wake him up. 

He'd managed to stay awake long enough to eat dinner and watch the first fifteen minutes of the movie. Now he was sound asleep with his head pillowed on her lap. His uncombed hair and faint shadow of stubble at first made him look adorably scruffy, but as she studied him, her serene smile faded to a frown. The circles under his eyes were so dark that they looked like bruises.

Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but it seemed to her that his cheekbones stood out more sharply than they had a week or so ago. She let out an exasperated sigh. If she asked him if he'd lost weight, he'd only deny it vehemently, the way he had been denying everything else lately.

Did he really think she needed to be protected _that_ much? Did he honestly believe that simply insisting over and over that everything was all right would keep her from worrying?

Just two years ago, she would have nagged him mercilessly, trying to get him to tell her what was wrong. If that didn't work, she might even have started snooping around on her own. She'd end up convincing herself that he no longer loved her—maybe he hated that they were 'destined' to end up with each other. Did he feel trapped by the future they were to have together? The worst times were when she started to wonder if he'd fallen in love with someone else. Sometimes, she even grew paranoid about the friendships he'd developed with Ami, Mako-chan, and Setsuna. What if he'd decided that he liked one of them better than he liked her? And so on.

She felt her stomach twist into a knot. She _had_ over-reacted in the past, hadn't she? Flying into a panic, acting as if it was the end of the world every time Mamo-chan was a little abrupt with her, behaving like a jealous witch whenever he spent time alone with ChibiUsa, spying on him, looking for a possible insult in every little thing. She swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in her throat.

And now she had come here tonight, armed with food and movies, ready to wheedle the truth out of him, or failing that, to raise the stink to end all stinks. How nice of her.

She'd had every determination to _make_ him admit that there was more to his parents' death than he was letting on. She was going to make him see that all this might be connected to the dreams they were having of the past.

Not now, though. And not in the way she had planned. Artemis had been right-forcing the issue with him wouldn't help in the least.

Through her connection to Mamo-chan, she could feel the exhaustion pressing down on him like a lead blanket. She brushed a stray bit of hair away from his face, wishing she could also brush away his fatigue.

If only she could simply throttle him into admitting what was going on. It probably wouldn't work, but it _would_ go a long ways towards easing her frustration.

She'd just have to go with the plan that she, Artemis, and Luna had cooked up the other day. Luna had approached Rei and asked if she could meet with her, Mamoru, and Usagi on a little before Sailor Sun's arrival to talk about whatever it was that Rei had found out about the detectives. If something big was going on, the cats said, it would be best if they found out about it before they got involved with this so-called 'Sailor Sun.'

She had talked him into going out for a walk and stopping by Rei's for some tea before their meeting. It didn't take much-he was feeling guilty enough as it was about their scaled-back date. All she had to do was mention that it would be nice to see him during daylight for a change, and he caved in. He had a meeting with his advisor at three, but the morning was hers.

So, it was a little manipulative of her. She'd done worse in the past, so she shouldn't being feeling guilty, right?

When she'd spoken to Artemis about Mamo-chan, the cat agreed that they needed to do _something_. The cat was prepared to swear on each of his nine lives that Mamoru had sensed something when he met the two detectives. Now, for whatever reason, Mamo-chan was just as vehement as writing it off as 'nothing important.' In fact, he barely remembered that he'd felt anything in the first place! No matter how much this something bothered Mamo-chan, she couldn't afford to ignore it.

One year ago, she had watched helplessly as Mamo-chan... as Galaxia... She shook herself so fiercely that Mamo-chan mumbled something and shifted a bit. Even now, she could barely bring herself to acknowledge what she had seen with her own two eyes. It was so much easier to pretend that it had never happened.

If nothing had happened, she kept telling herself back then, she could go on putting one foot in front of the other and getting on from day to day, imagining that there was nothing more than half a world between her and Mamo-chan. It hadn't taken long before she could actually remember watching Mamo-chan as he headed down towards airport security. If asked, she would have been able to recount even the smallest details-the way he had his coat slung over his shoulder, how he had looked back one last time with a sad smile and waved a final good-bye, what it felt like to stand there and watch as he disappeared down the long corridor and into the throng of other travelers.

Usagi twisted her engagement ring round and round her finger as she thought about Setsuna, and the sudden hope she had seen in the older woman's eyes. Setsuna had never mentioned that she had known Queen Serenity, or spoken about Hyperion, Delphine, the Eunomia, or any of the others. The others had asked why, but Usagi said nothing.

She was pretty sure she knew why Setsuna had never said anything, or why she had never reached out to them for comfort.

Just a year ago, she herself had refused to reach out to her own friends after Mamo-chan had...

A few tears caught in her eyelashes and she brushed them away. The constant ache of those days hadn't really left her, not even after everyone had been returned safe and sound from the Galaxy Cauldron. The ache had been with her ever since Seiya forced her to look back at her own memories, to shatter the brittle fantasy she had built for herself, and acknowledge what had happened.

She couldn't bring herself to do something like that to Mamo-chan, not yet, but she was determined to find out what was going on.

More importantly, if there was an enemy, she was going to find out what she had to do to stop it.

Sometimes, she felt as if the Ginzuishou shouldn't be kept in a heart-shaped locket. Given the number of power-mad beings that had come after her because of it, she often thought that having the crystal in a big bulls-eye pinned to her chest might be a more appropriate display. Galaxia's renegade Senshi had as much as told her that as long as she had the crystal, she'd be a target.

True, she thought. She _was_ a target.

But she wasn't defenseless.

Something had clicked for her back at the Hikawa Shrine the other day. Several things she'd already known finally became real to her.

She wasn't entirely clear on who or what the Eunomia were, but she'd seen the fear and respect in Setsuna's eyes. They had defeated Chaos and sealed it away, and at some great cost. As Eternal Sailor Moon, she had sent Chaos back into the Galaxy Cauldron to be reborn. Chaos was and always had been the ultimate enemy, and _she_ had defeated it.

She had done something that her supposedly ultra-powerful future self had not been able to do. She had done something that this 'Eunomia' had barely been able to do.

Usagi wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she knew one thing-she was no longer scared. She wouldn't say she was looking forward to the next whatever-it-was they'd be facing, but she knew that she would not be tempted to run and hide in some lovely little fantasy.

She leaned back on the couch and let one hand come to rest on Mamo-chan's chest. She could feel his heart. Along with the beating of his heart, she could feel the subtle pulse of the Kinzuishou, immensely powerful, yet quiet, like some slumbering giant. Nothing strange or new there.

As her eyelids started to droop, she looked lovingly at her Mamo-chan's face. In her sleep-blurred vision, the strain and darkness of fatigue seemed to melt away.

I know what it's like to be tired, she thought, hoping that that somehow he would pick up on the reassurance she was sending through their link. I know what it's like to always be dreading the next awful thing that's going to happen.

She let her head sink back against the cushions. Soon her chest rose and fell in exact time with Mamoru's, breath for breath and heartbeat for heartbeat, and she drifted off to a deep, but not dreamless, sleep.

* * *

Usagi drifted in yet another dream tableau. Nothing much ever happened in her dreams of the past. She simply moved from situation to situation as if she were moving from picture to picture in an art gallery. The only difference was that instead of simply viewing each picture, she was somehow in the middle of each picture. 

This time, the lack of motion seemed more natural than frustrating. As in most of her recent dreams, this tableau was of her as a small child of maybe four or five. The picture should have been creepy or frightening, but to her, it felt perfectly natural.

The tiny Princess Serenity lay half-asleep in the coils of a giant serpent. The serpent's skin was smooth and dry, and even in her dream, Usagi could sense the gentle warmth of the creature and how it smelled of autumn leaves after a soft rain. The little girl was not scared in the least. What she felt was absolute safety wonderfully spiced with the thrill of getting away with some minor offense-like staying up past bedtime with a stack of manga and a flashlight beneath the covers.

The serpent—Delphine, as Usagi now knew—had its head resting on one of its own coils. The wings Usagi had put in her drawing were nowhere to be seen. Dark red eyes gazed at baby Serenity with a mild expression that would not have been expected on a creature so huge. The darkness of Delphine's hide nearly disappeared into the Lunar night except for the occasional glint of emerald where the stars reflected from her scales. The ruby eyes were deep, and held many secrets.

The dreaming Usagi felt absolutely at peace with this giant snake, and she would have happily stayed there, but the dream flickered out as Mamo-chan shook her awake.

Usagi stretched and yawned. "What time is it?"

"Eleven-fifteen."

Usagi yelped in alarm but Mamo-chan only laughed softly. "You were sound asleep when I woke up. I called your parents and let them know the sordid truth."

"Mamo-chan..." she snarled.

"Relax, Usa-ko. I just told them that you fell asleep while we were watching a movie and that I had lost track of the time."

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then rolled her head to work out some of the stiffness in her neck. "They weren't mad, were they?"

"I don't think so," Mamo-chan said, but he hesitated long enough that Usagi started to worry. "They did say to get you back home before midnight, though."

Stupid curfew. Usagi was half-convinced that her parents would try to enforce the 11 p.m. rule even after she was married. Mamo-chan offered to rub the kinks out of her neck, and she took him up on his offer. They could afford to dawdle a few minutes and still get her home before pumpkin time.

"Do you mind driving me?" she asked. Every minute she could spend with him was more precious than gold.

"Afraid of muggers?" he teased. "You, the girl who's saved the world how many times"

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny." Of course, he'd be awake and chipper _now_, when she had to go home.

"We'll take the motorcycle, if you don't mind. It'll be faster than getting the car out of the garage."

Mind? Mind being able to sit with her arms wrapped tight around Mamo-chan and snuggling up against his back? Was he crazy?

Ten minutes later, they were speeding through the streets of Tokyo. His back was warm and strong against her chest, making her feel safer than safe as they flew along at ridiculous speed. She wasn't even the tiniest bit scared as he took corners at high speed, tilting so that their knees came within inches of the ground. All it did was give her an excuse to hold him even closer.

This evening hadn't worked out quite as she'd planned, but she couldn't say she was too upset about it.

* * *

Saturday, July 7 

1:24 a.m.

So, the evening hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

On the one hand, Jason thought, he hadn't enjoyed himself so much in years. After the first five or ten minutes of awkward conversation while they reintroduced themselves and searched for common ground, Makoto had proven to be good and easy company. Although she was young, there was something about her that made her seem like an 'old soul,' as his grandmother might say.

He liked that she seemed comfortable in her own skin. He also liked that she was not afraid to eat. They'd gone to a Spanish restaurant, of all places, and it was quite an education to listen to her talk about what she thought about how the food was prepared or how it was seasoned, and how she hoped to duplicate certain items on her own. The menu was mainly appetizers—patas? no, tapas, that was it—and they must have sampled every one. Most were good. A few were not anything he'd care to try again. Still, he couldn't think of a time when he had so enjoyed a meal for the meal itself.

They talked about this, and they talked about that. They talked about how much Tokyo had changed over the past ten years, and they talked about movies they'd seen and books they'd loved. They discussed the problems of the world and came up with ten ways to solve them all before they'd even finished the first course. They talked about how much they hated getting up in the morning and listed all the things they would do if they had a whole month off. They discovered that they both liked jazz, but hadn't heard of half of the other's favorite artists.

He couldn't have asked for a better evening, or a better distraction from his problems.

On the other hand...

What the _hell_ was he thinking?

He was out on the town on a Friday night with a girl who was ten years younger than himself. Now _that_ showed a whole lot of common sense!

Plus, there was every chance that she knew all about Chiba and the Senshi, and if that blew up in his face, it could very well lead to the sort of situation for which the phrase 'the shit has hit the fan' was invented.

Then, if that wasn't enough, this was also the second night in a row he had been up ridiculously late, and if Seidou followed through with her threat of dragging him out to Kamakura tomorrow morning, he'd be one hurting puppy.

Oh, well. He'd always had that little self-destructive streak going for him, hadn't he? At least he'd managed to keep the evening alcohol free. Just one of the advantages of keeping company with a minor, he told himself wryly.

He'd headed out that afternoon with every intention of tracking down Chiba come hell, high water, or wrath of Seidou. If he concentrated, he found he could get a general idea of where the man was. Arranging a chance encounter wouldn't have been the least bit difficult.

Then, there was the phone number that was sitting like a time-bomb in his pocket. England was only six or seven hours behind Tokyo, so finding a good time to call wasn't a problem. He knew he'd have to make the call eventually, so he'd planned to do so tonight, after he'd found Chiba.

That's what he _should_ have done. Instead, he'd stopped to chat with the cute girl on the basketball court. Now, eight hours later, the two of them were sitting in a small cafe not far from one of Tokyo University's research centers. Technically speaking, the evening had been nothing but a waste of time, but he couldn't bring himself to get upset about it.

After dinner, and after strolling through Roppongi for a little people-watching, they came to this cafe in search of coffee and dessert. This place was less frilly and pretentious than the frenchified tea shop Seidou had dragged him to the other day. It was more shabby-cute than girly-cute, with mismatched chairs painted in different colors. The cups and plates were a mix of white institutional ware and lumpy hand-thrown pottery, and most of the tables had a noticeable wobble. Makoto didn't even bother to try to find a non-wobbly table. She simply found them a quiet table off to the side and slid a matchbook under one of the legs with a casualness born of familiarity.

"A friend of mine who's doing graduate studies at the Research Institute told me about this place. Usually, I hang out at the Crown Fruit Parlor" she said"but they close at eleven."

That was just fine with Jason. He didn't want to go somewhere where they might run into her friends. That little hallway encounter with Mars and Mercury had probably taken eight years off his life.

"Sometimes Motoki—it's his family's place—lets us stay late if we're having a big study session or something. I suppose I should be cramming for exams," Makoto said with a noticeable lack of conviction. She picked up her cup of tea and held it for a moment, savoring the weight and warmth of the rough-textured mug. "I know it's important, but I just can't seem to get worked up over it."

Jason started to ask if she thought about forgoing college altogether, but thought better of it. This was Japan, after all, and academic pressures were even worse than they were back home. "Maybe you could go to a culinary school, or get yourself apprenticed to a master gardener. Have you thought about that at all?"

She nodded. "I've even gotten together a few phone numbers, e-mail addresses, web sites and the like. Mamoru-kun's friends with the guy who works with the roses at the Imperial Gardens. Even if he can't take on an apprentice, he might be good for a lead or two, or maybe just some advice. Still, I'll probably try college for a year or two, just to see what happens. I feel like I owe it to my parents to at least give it a try, you know?"

He thought about that for a moment. "I know what you mean," he finally said. "My dad died when I was ten-heart attack-and Mom hauled us all back to the States."

Makoto looked at him with sympathy, but not pity, thank God. "Why did she take you from Japan? Didn't she like it here?"

"She loved it," he said bitterly. "Unfortunately, Dad only had thirteen years in the service. The Navy expects its officers to die in battle or at a ripe old age after a long, cushy desk job. Keeling over in your mid-thirties doesn't exactly qualify you or your family for much in the way of a pension. What little my mom did get allowed her to buy a house near family back in Baltimore. She was able to get a job as a nurse pretty quickly. The eight of us..."

"Eight!"

Jason grinned. The incredulous expression on Makoto's face was enough to forestall his little pity-party. "Eight. Me, Mom, four brothers, and two sisters."

"Wow..." It was hard to miss the wistful, even covetous note in her voice.

"Anyway, to go back to what I was getting to about college and all that, we'd had it drummed into our heads that we were going to go to college. Unfortunately, by the time the oldest of us were ready to go, money was pretty tight. Jake took classes at a community college while he was working, and I was just good enough at basketball to get a partial scholarship at the state university," he said with pride. He _was_ good enough on his own to play in a handful of games and to be a good opponent for the other players in practice, but not good enough without his telekinesis to go any further. The few times he'd tried 'helping' the ball to go where he wanted, other players had commented about how oddly it had moved. Telekinesis was also no substitute for speed or being able to think quickly in the crunch.

He shook his head sadly. "The worst part about cutting out after two years was thinking about how disappointed Dad would have been. At least we'd helped Mom to save enough to get the younger ones started."

Makoto was lost in thought for a while. "I always used to dream about being in a big family" she said"but it was just me, Mama, and Daddy."

And then, when she was far too young, it was just her. Jason felt he should apologize, somehow, but Makoto kept talking.

"I'd love to hear more about your family... if you don't mind, that is," she asked shyly.

"Of course not! Just hold on a second..."

He pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and handed it over to Makoto. He'd loaded it with pictures of his family, his dog, and even his house. It seemed silly to him, but he knew that the photos would help break the ice with his host family or with anyone he'd be working with. Makoto slid her chair around so that the two of them were sitting side by side.

As he'd hoped, she laughed in surprise at the first picture. Two brown, perpetually anxious eyes peered out of a brindled, needle-nosed face.

"That's Gracie. We were never allowed to have pets while growing up, so as soon as I got my own place, I got a dog to go with. My brother Josh is looking after her while I'm gone."

Next was a copy of Emma's Christmas card. It featured Emma along with her husband and three moppets, all in their coordinated outfits and accompanied by a Golden Retriever, posing at the end of a dock on Nantucket. Looking at that picture, one would never guess that this perfectly coiffed blonde had grown up in South Baltimore and had been suspended from school three times for beating up other students, smoking in the girl's locker-room, and getting falling-down drunk at her junior prom.

"Emma went after scholarships like a pit bull, and got to go to MIT and Princeton, all on someone else's dime." Despite her bimbonic attitude in high-school and her current Ralph Lauren lifestyle, Emma knew electronic circuits, transmitters, and technology like no one else he'd ever met. Her biggest problem had been learning the proper protocols for expressing what she already _knew_ instinctively. She'd also had to learn how to tell other people how to build the things she could cobble together without thinking. "She used to work for NASA, but she switched to consulting so she could spend more time with the kids." It also allowed her to move away from the DC area and her increasingly embarrassing extended family, but Jason didn't feel like going into that at the moment.

They turned to the next picture, one that was less than a month old. Josh was a year and a half younger than Emma and three years younger than Jason, but years of hard work and a harder marriage made him look much older than either sibling. Josh and his four-year-old son, Robbie, were posed in front of the Babe Ruth statue at Camden Yards. They were wearing matching O's caps. Robbie's had slid down to hide his eyes. Robbie's mother, of course, was nowhere to be seen. Last Jason had heard, Pam was somewhere in Indiana, probably cheating on her third husband by now, but no one really knew. No one really cared.

"He's got his own auto-shop," Jason said proudly. "He specializes in antique and classic cars. I'll go in sometimes to help out, especially if he's got a 1920 Rolls or something like that in for work. The best was when someone had a 1908 Hupmobile that needed to have its entire engine taken apart and rebuilt."

"Some friends of mine and I helped a mechanic restore an old car that she and her husband had been working on before he died," said Makoto. "I didn't understand half of what I was doing, but it was fun."

"It is, isn't it?" He was having a great time, but part of him hoped he could find some area where the two of them were completely incompatible.

The next picture showed two young women in front of a Southwestern landscape. One was tall and lanky, with sun-browned skin and spiky blonde hair. In the clear desert light, her eyes were as bright as chips of turquoise. Her companion was petite, with soft curves, curly black hair, and luminous brown eyes. She looked like a Victorian doll. Jason didn't have to tell Makoto which one was related to him.

"Missy," he said. Her name was really Elizabeth, but his youngest sister hadn't answered to her given name since she was four. "The other gal in the picture is Tanya. The two of them just bought a house out in New Mexico. It's really cool—all adobe and stuff like that. Missy's a weaver and Tanya's a carpenter. They trade their stuff with other artists, so their house looks like some sort of funky museum." He was glad he'd had the chance to visit before this Japan thing had come up. Otherwise he'd never have been able to see for himself how things were finally going well for his baby sister. For a long time, it looked as if Missy was the only one who'd not received the family gift. It was only after their grandmother taught her to knit that she'd discovered her strange affinity for textiles and organic fibers of all kinds. It was like the loom and spindle would sit up and beg, roll over, or play fetch at her slightest whim. The old Navaho weavers had accepted her into their circle and taught her things that they would never, ever show another Anglo.

"I can't believe how _big_ the sky looks," Makoto said. Oddly enough, she didn't comment on the fact that Missy had a girlfriend. Maybe attitudes about that sort of thing were different in Japan, he thought. At least Missy had finally found a place where she could be happy.

The pictures of James and Jeremy were stiffly posed high school photos, and received little more than a cursory nod. Jeremy looked like, well, Jeremy, but the picture of James was misleading thanks to the combed hair and recent shave.

"James normally looks like a complete stoner or part of a grunge band, but he graduated a year early and got a full ride to Virginia Tech, and it looks like he's going to graduate early there as well. Jeremy's trying to talk Josh into taking him on at his shop, but Josh says he has to try at least two years of college first." James could do some truly scary things with computers, and Jeremy's gift with metal and moving parts rivaled Josh's own.

How would Makoto react if he told her about the set of gifts that had had been passed down from Grandfather Wright? She'd probably freak, he figured. That's what had happened with Renee and a couple of other ex-girlfriends. Just as well that he'd be keeping this relationship short and sweet.

They flipped to the last photo. It showed two men lounging against a sunlit brick wall. Makoto blinked a little, then looked more closely at the photo.

"This isn't you, is it?" she asked. It was an old photo, taken back in the days when he was in uniform. Jake was in uniform as well, not his full firefighting gear, but the BCFD shirt and slacks he wore while on call at the station. Jason remembered the day clearly, even though it seemed like it was an eternity ago. It had been an unusually cool day for a Baltimore summer, and Jason had dropped by the fire station on his break, just to razz his brother. After the obligatory teasing, the two of them lounged around outside for a while, enjoying July air that could actually be breathed. They were wearing shades, of course, and one of Jake's buddies had snapped this picture of the two of them as they stood in nearly identical poses. The two brothers looked like a parody of cool.

"Yeah. I went with the ultra-short hair that summer for some reason," he said. He'd thought it would be more comfortable during the summer, and it was, but then Jake pointed out that uniform plus blond hair plus blue eyes plus buzz cut made him look like a S.S. wanna-be and that was the end of that.

He'd almost forgotten about this picture. The others had all been added especially for the trip, but this one had been in his wallet so long he hardly even saw it any more. The card from the funeral mass peeked up from behind the photo, its top edge worn down to velvety smoothness.

"You said you had four brothers. Who's this one?" Makoto asked.

"Jake. Jacob. He was the oldest."

She looked up at him sharply, green eyes wide with fear and understanding.

"It's okay," he said gently. "He died in an accident three—nearly four—years ago."

"It never seems that long, does it?" she asked.

"No." He reached out to take back the wallet. She passed it to him, and their fingers slid past each other, not flirtatiously, but in silent acknowledgement that the two of them had yet one more thing in common.

Jason looked at the photo again. The two of them looked so young and innocent. Just a couple of young heroes-in-training, wearing their too-clean uniforms instead of the hazmat gear or generic suit that they usually wore on the job.

How might things have worked out, he wondered, if Jake hadn't died in that fire? What if he'd realized what was happening in time to use his gifts to shield himself and his two buddies? Maybe he had, but Jason knew all too well that Jake couldn't manipulate the flames he fought for a living. He shook his head, trying to clear the images that continually rose up to haunt him.

Makoto remained silent. She didn't ask the usual questions ("Were you two very close?") or give the usual platitudes ("I know it must hurt."), and for that, he was grateful. The hole in his chest felt raw around the edges again, in ways that he could not explain. Maybe that was because the idea of Jake not being there was still too strange of a notion for him to accept. They were only eleven months apart in age—'Irish twins' and a pair of Gemini to boot—and had been as close as if they had actually grown alongside each other in the womb.

If Jake hadn't died, then perhaps he wouldn't have to be here today, trying to deal with what happened over three years ago.

How much longer could he continue to keep this up? His past was racing to catch up with him, and no matter how many times he told himself to turn and confront it, he always found one more excuse to keep running. One more excuse from doing what needed to be done.

It had to stop. Things had to be put right.

They sat in comfortable, companionable silence for a while. When Jason happened to catch a glimpse of his watch, he was shocked to see that it was after two.

"I hate to say it, but we'd better head back," he finally said. "Does the subway still shut down at midnight?"

Makoto nodded. "I don't mind walking back if you don't. It's about a forty minute walk back to my place from here." Her brow wrinkled in concern. "But aren't you staying far out from the city center? How are you going to get back?"

"I'll take a taxi," he said. Along with a second mortgage on his house, he thought grimly, remembering the cost of the ride from the airport to his hotel.

Makoto started to say something, then flushed bright red. Jason figured she was about to offer him the use of her couch for a few hours until the subway started running again, but had some major second thoughts.

He wouldn't mind taking her up on the offer, but he did agree it was a bit much for a first date. First date, huh? Well, he may as well call it what it was.

"Don't worry about it," he said. Even he could tell that his smile was not all that convincing. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of it."

If things were different, he could find himself falling for this girl in a big way, age difference or no age difference. Truth be told, he was already starting to fall, and that was both exciting and scary. If things were given the chance to work out, he'd probably find that the ten years between them would look like nothing.

He got up from the table. "If we wait any longer, the subways will start running again before we know it."

"Yeah," she said, and her reluctance to leave this place was so obvious he had to struggle to keep from laughing. "At least it's a nice night for a walk."

They headed out into the balmy night air. Jason debated whether or not he should take her arm. They walked along in a pleasantly awkward silence, each lost in thought. When Makoto finally spoke it took him a moment to realize that she had spoken at all.

"Um, I don't know if you're busy on Sunday or not," she said with what he knew was uncharacteristic meekness, "but I'd love to make dinner for you or something."

The last came out in a nervous rush. Careful, he thought. He didn't want to give this a chance, did he?

Still, it was just dinner...

"I think I could manage that," he said, even as he mentally smacked himself upside the head for being a total idiot. Then, to top it off, he held out his arm so she could slip hers through the crook. She looked up at him and smiled, and the hole in his chest didn't hurt quite so much any more.

It was like a game of 'let's pretend.' Let's pretend that everything is normal, at least until after Sunday. Two days. He could afford to put things off that much longer, couldn't he?

* * *

3:20 a.m.

Rei's eyes fluttered open. The sound of her scream still echoed in her mind. That was odd. It was rare that any of her dreams scared her awake.

She sat up, but it took forever. It was like moving through tar. What on earth was wrong with her? Why did she feel so weak and sluggish?

Then, she froze. Something-someone-was moving around in her room. She could hear it. Crackling, rustling, softly clicking... it came from everywhere at once. Her room was dark, but it shouldn't be _that_ dark-something was wrong with the walls.

The walls shouldn't be that dark. The darkness shouldn't be moving like that.

She tried to turn on the light, but she kept missing the chain. When she did finally grab hold of the chain, it slid right through her numb fingers.

The darkness flowed down the wall and rushed towards her bed. The darkness was a mass of tiny black beetles. They came straight at her, seeking her out, washing over her blanket like a wave. She tried to swat them away, but her muscles were as responsive as overcooked noodles. The bugs kept coming. They crawled up her body and towards her face, trying to find a way in, but she knew that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was that they could see her. They were looking at her.

She tried to scream, but could not. All that came out was the ghost of a whisper.

Rei sat up—again—and this time switched on the lamp, easy as pie. No bugs. No darkness. No one looking at her. She let out a deep breath. It was just another dream, but it had felt so real.

She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She hated it when she woke from one dream into another! It was so disorienting, and it always took a while before she could trust that she was fully awake. Even now she felt the itchy prickle of thousands of tiny bug feet marching up and down her body.

Once the phantom itch subsided, she touched her fingers to her neck, half-expecting to find that the flesh was bruised and sore. The thing with the bugs was almost enough to make her forget the dream that had frightened her into false waking. The dreams about her past? future? death had been insanely vivid the past couple of nights. She ran her hand over her throat, but all she could feel was the frantic hammering of her own pulse.

Before picking up her dream journal, she spent a moment in prayer, first clapping her hands twice in the ritual manner to show respect for the kami and to frighten away any evil spirits that might happen to be lurking. Rei sincerely hoped it did the job.

She got out of bed and headed to the shrine's kitchen, not even bothering to change out of her nightshirt. Even now, she was still too rattled to even think about meditating. She wanted some cocoa, a cookie or two, and a chance to look through her dream journal.

Normally, Rei didn't like sweet things in the morning, but she was in the mood for something childlike and comforting. Even the smell of scalded milk was enough to help her regress to somewhere safe and soothing. Now, she was better able to face her journal and look at it objectively.

The dream about being strangled to death had happened on the second night of her visions-Saturday night or Sunday morning. It had then left her alone until Wednesday night, when it returned with a vengeance.

Other scenes had repeated themselves, gaining details which either clarified the situation or contradicted earlier versions of the scene.

She looked back at the cryptic entry that had started all of this, and once again tried to make sense of those fragments that had seemed so crucial at the time.

_Women. 5-6? Serenity/not Serenity. Serpent-lady-dragon? human? Mirror-lady. Armor/spear-lion of Saint Mark. Mother/crows. Leaves and flowers/ "horned god"? Senshi? Sealing?_

She was beginning to make some sense of this first entry, but she was both too sleepy and too wired to think clearly yet.

Instead, she leafed through her journal until she found the first entry about her future (or was it past?) death. In the margin, she dutifully jotted down the date and any details that stood out about that morning's dream. She then turned to a blank page and wrote a quick description of her false waking and the spying insects.

She laughed softly and took another sip of her cocoa. It looked as if hanging around Ami for all these years had rubbed off on her.

As she savored her special breakfast, Rei idly browsed through the journal, trying to see if there was anything that might give her a hint about this Sailor Sun they'd be meeting later today.

None of the visions had anything that was obviously about a new Senshi. She read through each entry and the dates listed down its margins. The visions seemed to repeat regularly; not every night, but close.

There was, however, only one vision that had not repeated itself. The undulating thing in the darkness. She'd only had that particular vision that first night-when was it again? She checked the date in her journal. Saturday, June 30. The morning after Usagi's party. She shook her head. Was it only a week ago that all this had started? As she re-read her notes she recalled the sense she'd had of being watched, considered, and turned away.

Once more, she shivered and brushed imaginary insects from her arms.

Were there really things out there that could watch her through her dreams?

She heard a floorboard creak and she looked up in alarm. Her hard-won calm fled. When she saw her grandfather shuffle through the kitchen door, she couldn't decide whether to be relieved or angry.

Anger won, but just barely. "Grandpa! What are you doing up this early? You're sick! You need your sleep!"

Grandpa only laughed and poured himself a big mug full of cocoa. Rei grimaced. He'd better not have taken all of it. She'd been counting on having seconds.

"It's only a little summer cold, Rei-chan. I'm feeling much better already," he said. He still sounded congested. "Besides, we old geezers don't need more than a few hours sleep a night."

Rei shook her head in disgust. Grandpa caught colds so much more easily these days, and had a harder and harder time shaking them off. Unfortunately, he never took them seriously. One of these days, a 'little summer cold' was going to turn into a case of full-blown pneumonia.

"You still sound stuffy. And why are you drinking cocoa? You know what the doctor said about your blood sugar. Besides, I made that cocoa for _me_," Rei said snippily. She wanted to say more, but elected to take another sip of her cocoa rather than get herself worked up.

"Rei-chan," he joked as he knelt down opposite her, "you're much too young to be such a nag. Wait until you have a husband for that"

Rei nearly bit through her mug.

"Now it's my turn to ask you what _you're_ doing up so early, sweetheart. I thought I heard you call out earlier."

"I'm sorry, Grandpa! I—I must have had a bad dream or something." In the guise of reaching for another cookie, she curled one arm around her journal and pulled it out of his direct line of sight. He'd been unusually attentive since she'd fallen asleep mid-vision a while back. She was beginning to wonder if he suspected anything about her visions, or even about her Senshi activities.

He smiled. "That must be it. You poor young things are under a lot of stress these days, aren't you?"

More than he could ever imagine, thought Rei.

"Well, anyhow, I'm sorry I woke you, Grandpa," she said sheepishly. She hoped her scream hadn't scared him too badly.

Her grandfather only laughed. "I was awake already, Rei-chan. Don't wrinkle your pretty little face by worrying about me! I'm not worth the trouble."

Then, as sudden as the shift from her false waking into true waking, her grandfather's expression changed.

"Maybe it's just an old man's fancy," he said in a tone that indicated that he did not think it fanciful at all, "but as I slept, I thought I felt something evil drawing near the shrine."

Rei listened attentively. Her grandfather followed all of the rituals scrupulously if not with utter solemnity, but he had never mentioned being able to sense anything about the spirit world. Had one of her dreams awakened it, or was it something else?

"When you first came here to live, Rei-chan, you struck me as a very mysterious little girl. Befriending those two pesky crows, being drawn to the fire as if it were a magnet..."

Rei could feel herself both blushing and trembling. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she knew it was going to be awkward.

"In fact," he said carefully, "I've often thought that despite your father's wishes, you should continue your training beyond that which is normal for a miko. Your father only allowed you to train as a miko because he thought it would distract you from the loss of your mother." He was quiet, but it was obvious that he was fighting the temptation to say more on the subject.

The miko in question stared into her half-empty cup. That was just like her father, wasn't it? To him, grief was nothing more than a distraction or an inconvenience. She'd been a distraction and an inconvenience. Her father couldn't pursue his political career and be a single parent at the same time.

Guess which part of his life had to go, she thought bitterly. She may have been attuned to spirits and visions, but it took her nearly nine years to notice that her own father barely even cared she existed. Maybe when he thought she was old enough to be married off to one of his political allies...

No way would she ever allow that to happen! She forced herself to listen more closely to her grandfather. He'd get his feelings hurt if she didn't.

"Your school goes up through college," her grandfather said. "If you want to call it that."

Rei stared at him, shocked at the disgust evident at his tone. She knew that T.A.'s 'college' was really more of a finishing school, but she would probably end up going there. With her grades, she had a fair to middling chance of getting a scholarship to a _real_ college, but when she'd asked her father about paying even partial tuition to Tokyo University, he'd firmly reminded her about the respect that T.A. had in the community, and about the fine young ladies who had graduated from there. He hadn't outright refused her request, but he had made his wishes clearly known.

"You'd be wasted there," Grandpa continued, "and there's only so far you can go as a miko. Have you considered Kokugakuin?"

Rei's jaw dropped. Kokugakuin was _the_ leading center for priestly training and Shinto scholarship. Was he serious?

"I guess you haven't," he said wryly. "You should think about it though. Since it's in town, you could continue living here. You'd be an ideal candidate, and it would be good press for the school to have a few more female students. Besides, I've seen the way your friends seem to flock here." He laughed. "It's so wonderful to see so many pretty girls all the time"

"Grandpa..." she snarled.

Still laughing, he waved aside her annoyance. "You make them feel comfortable here. Despite all of your bickering, you help to keep this shrine a place of peace. That's one of the most important things a priest or priestess can do." Again, the sudden shift to seriousness. "I've been watching you more closely of late, Rei-chan. I think you're more spiritually perceptive than you know... or than you're letting on." Then he laughed his usual, raucous laugh, sounding very much like Phobos or Deimos. "I wonder if the same thing that woke me was the same thing that woke you," he said. "Now that would be some coincidence, wouldn't it" He looked at her, and she couldn't tell if the glint in his eyes was simple mischief or if he was trying to see through her facade.

She couldn't lie to him. More than that, she suddenly _wanted_ to be able to tell him everything.

"Sometimes..." She paused and licked her lips nervously. "Sometimes I can feel things. Strength. Wrongness. Corruption. Sometimes I sense it surrounding a person or I feel it when I go near a certain place." She looked up at him, not sure if she was hoping or fearing that he understood.

"Did you feel any 'wrongness' when you fell asleep in front of the fire the other morning?" he asked gently. He then laughed softly and shook his head. "Ah, never mind that. I can tell you don't want to talk about it just yet. We _will_ have to talk about it soon, however. I'd hate to let things go too late."

Again, Rei felt that her grandfather was saying one thing while hinting at another. Too late? Too late for what? Maybe she should tell him about the things she'd seen.

She shook her head, then pretended to wipe sleep-grit from her eyes. No. She couldn't say anything, not without clearing it with the others, especially Usagi.

"Thanks, Grandpa," she said, pulling her journal into her lap as discreetly as she could. "I'll keep that in mind."

For a moment, he simply looked at her with an unusually serious look in his eyes. "I hope you do, Rei-chan. These things should never be taken lightly."

* * *

8:38 a.m.

Ikuko carried two plates of French toast out to the family room. She smiled as she saw ChibiUsa and Hotaru, still in their pajamas, watching some cartoon program and talking about what they wanted to do for Tanabata. Even though Shingo and Usagi both enjoyed festivals very much, they were both at the age where they preferred to act unimpressed by such things.

Ikuko hadn't realized how much she'd missed the excitement that used to build up around these holidays. It was too bad that ChibiUsa couldn't come and stay with them more often. There were times when Ikuko almost wished that ChibiUsa was her own child and not... Whose child was she, anyway?

Almost as soon as it was formed, the question faded from Ikuko's mind, along with a faint memory of another child with darker pink hair in heart-shaped odangos, and a stronger memory of finding a child's cup decorated with a name she didn't quite recognize.

It sounded as if Hotaru wanted to go to the planetarium to see a special show about the constellations, while ChibiUsa was more interested in going to the festival for food and games. Ikuko noticed that neither girl mentioned the puppet shows that her children had loved when they were younger.

"Here you are, girls." She handed them the plates. "Have you two decided what wishes you're going to hang on the Tanabata bamboo?"

ChibiUsa and Hotaru looked at each other and shrugged.

"I don't know if we'll end up doing that or not, Ikuko-mama," ChibiUsa said. She then started talking about how they planned to meet up with her friends Momoko and Kyusuke later that evening.

Ikuko's heart broke just the tiniest little bit. Why couldn't ChibiUsa stay a child forever? Fortunately, Usagi trudged downstairs just then, no doubt lured by the smell of breakfast.

Ikuko couldn't help smiling. At least there were some things that would never change, among them her oldest daughter's passionate love affair with food and sleep.

"That smells good," Usagi said, looking in the general direction of the French toast. She was so groggy that it came out like a lament.

"I have a plate sitting in the oven for you. Why don't you come eat in the kitchen so ChibiUsa and Hotaru can have their time together."

Usagi did a very slow double-take upon noticing Hotaru's pajamas.

"Hotaru-chan spent the night?"

"If you'd gotten in at a decent hour, you might have seen her," Ikuko chided, but gently. She didn't miss the sympathetic 'aren't parents the worst?' look that Hotaru gave her daughter.

Ikuko ate her own modest breakfast while Usagi devoured a stack of French toast that even Shingo would have been hard-pressed to finish, despite the fact that he was now several centimeters taller than his sister and had the appetite of a normal teenage boy.

"Usagi-chan, remember that phone call I got the other morning?"

Usagi looked up at her, suddenly looking very awake.

"That was Taiyouko Seidou—an old school-friend of mine. You've actually met her once or twice, but you were probably too young to remember much."

Her daughter finished swallowing her mouthful of food.

"Why was she calling all of a sudden?" she asked suspiciously.

"Goodness, you sound like you're expecting to get into trouble or something!" Ikuko exclaimed. "Anyway, Taiyouko-chan must have decided that she hadn't seen me in a while, so she gave me a call. She wants to get together for tea or lunch, and she said that she'd love to see you again, too."

"Really," Usagi said. She didn't look thrilled by the idea, but Ikuko couldn't blame her. When she was in _her_ teens, going to lunch with her mother and one of her mother's friends would have been very far down on the list of 'things that are fun.'

"I think you'd have good time," Ikuko said. "Taiyouko-chan's a police officer—a detective, really—and she's got lots of interesting stories. She's good about leaving out the truly gory parts, however."

Usagi still looked doubtful. "Did she say when she wanted to get together?"

Ikuko shook her head. Usagi's attitude was starting to get to her. "She's in the middle of a case, so she said it would probably be last-minute notice." She smiled mischievously. "I really want you two to meet each other again, so I told her that I'd be perfectly willing to pull you out of school for a day."

"Oh. Um... Thanks."

"Well that sounded sincere!" Ikuko snapped. "It's not every day I treat you to a day off from school. My goodness, you're acting like I'm about to haul you off in front of a judge or something! What on earth is wrong with you this morning?"

Usagi flinched, then looked down at her empty plate, presumably in shame. "I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered. "It's just that... I'm tired, that's all."

Ikuko was about to remind Usagi that they'd set her eleven o' clock curfew for a reason, but her mother-sense hinted that something else was going on.

"You and Mamoru-kun didn't have a fight, did you?"

Usagi shook her head emphatically. "No! No way!" She then chuckled ruefully. "He was asleep pretty much the whole time I was there. Even when I'm with him, I feel like I hardly see him any more!"

Ikuko got up and went over to her daughter, and gave her a big hug. "Oh, my little Usagi-cuddle-bunny! It'll only be a little while longer, you'll see." She let go and looked her daughter in the eye. Usagi didn't look like she was going to cry, but she looked so comically morose that Ikuko had to fight not to laugh.

"I wish I could be married now!" Usagi wailed.

There wasn't much Ikuko could say on that subject that wouldn't upset her daughter. Usagi wouldn't want to hear that she'd be miserable trying to deal with being a new bride while her husband was absorbed with his schooling. That was why she and Kenji had made the mandate about Usagi's wedding delay appear to be dependent on Usagi's graduation rather than Mamoru's.

"I know, sweetie," she said, brushing a stray hair from Usagi's face. "I know you're impatient, but couldn't you just enjoy your last year of being in high-school? Also there's so much to do during your first year of college-I'd hate for you to miss out on all of that. Besides, I'd like just a little more time to have you as my very own Usagi-cuddle-bunny."

"Mom!" Usagi rolled her eyes upon hearing the old nickname.

"Being an adult carries a lot of responsibility with it," Ikuko continued, hoping that at least some of this would sink in. Repetition, repetition, repetition, she told herself. That was the only way with teenagers. "I just want to be sure that you'll be ready for all of the responsibilities you're going to have later on in life."

Ikuko was expecting some more eye rolling, or perhaps even an "oh, _Mom_!" but she was taken aback by the look that came into Usagi's eyes.

It was a look of such profound sadness and suffering that it knocked Ikuko's breath from her body. A moment later, the look was gone.

"So, what can you tell me about this Taiyouko person?" Usagi asked. She still sounded tired, but the question seemed based in genuine curiosity.

Grateful for the change of subject, Ikuko grinned at her daughter. "Well, for one thing, she saved your life. One day, while I was about six months pregnant with you, I went downtown to go shopping and to meet Taiyouko-chan for lunch."

It was one of the times in her life that she and Taiyouko had drawn especially close. Taiyouko was normally rather unimpressed by children and babies, and had sworn on several occasions that she had no intention of having children, or 'spawning,' as she'd put it. Even so, she'd become almost obsessed with her friend's pregnancy and with the health and safety of the baby.

"She was only a patrol officer at the time, and she was working in the area where I'd planned to go shopping." She paused. The story became rather unpleasant at this point, but she could only edit for content so much. "Anyhow, I was going to meet Taiyouko in some department store or another, I can't remember which. It's not important."

She could recall exactly what the mannequins were wearing that day, and how they were posed. She could still smell the blend of fragrances from the perfume counter. She remembered the cheery sound of Taiyouko-chan's 'hello,' and caught a mental glimpse of her cute blue policewoman's jacket, cap, and skirt.

"I could just see her across the room, when all of a sudden, someone grabbed me from behind. I don't know what he wanted—maybe he was a robber or something—but I guess he thought a pregnant woman would make a good hostage."

The man had put a knife to her throat and kept babbling on and on in a frantic whisper about how he didn't want to kill her, but he had to. He had to before it was too late. Ikuko could still hear every word as if it had been captured on a tape recorder. She remembered how he'd asked her for forgiveness. That last part was what had scared her the most, for some reason.

Usagi leaned forward in fright and excitement, eager to hear more.

"Fortunately, Taiyouko-chan was there and was able to subdue the robber. There's not that much more to tell."

Even now she could feel the heat of the bullet as it passed by her temple. Then, there was spray of warm wetness exploding across her shoulder and the side of her face, and a thunderous sound that seemed to shake the entire world.

The other police officers who'd come to oversee the incident kept her there for questioning, only letting her go after Taiyouko had said something about how shameful it was for a pregnant woman to have to stand around waiting and wondering when she could wash the blood, bone, and brain out of her hair.

"Wow!" Usagi whispered in awe. "How come you never told me about that before?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ikuko said lightly. "I guess it just hasn't come up, that's all. I also don't like to talk about it much." She picked up Usagi's empty plate and carried it to the sink. "Now go get dressed so you can help me with the chores."

Usagi sighed dramatically, but got up from the table and headed upstairs.

Ikuko breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad that her daughter hadn't pressed her for details. She would prefer to go on as if the whole incident had never happened, but she didn't want Taiyouko to accidentally spill the beans when they met for lunch.

As Ikuko did the breakfast dishes, she couldn't help thinking about the sadness that had been in her daughter's eyes. It was probably only another bout of teen angst, but something in Usagi's expression had cut straight to her soul.

The look reminded her of another time, when someone else had looked at her with eyes that had cut straight through her. Although she wished she could forget, or convince herself that she'd only been imagining things, she was still haunted by those cold, golden eyes that had looked down at her without compassion, pity, or remorse.

* * *

8:45 a.m.

Jason somehow managed to open the screen door into the kitchen without touching his hand to the knob. Taiyouko was closest to the door, so theoretically she could have let him in, but she didn't feel like getting up from the table. Besides, she was curious to see how he'd manage. To her consternation, she couldn't figure out how he did it without getting grease all over the place.

"I made a second pot of coffee, Jason-san," Akiko said. "It was so nice of you to get up to work on the car after so little sleep."

"Keisuke told me that you came in with the dawn, Wright. Up to no good again, I see," Taiyouko said.

"Hey, I'm a young _gaijin_. I've got to get out and enjoy the city at some point, right? And for the record, I got in well before sunrise." He still sounded more than a little groggy. He pried off his shoes and headed for the washroom, greasy hands held up so that no one would try to touch him.

"Thank you again for helping with the car, Jason-san," Akiko repeated. She looked more uncomfortable than grateful, however. Taiyouko did notice that she relaxed a bit once she realized that Jason was not going to use the kitchen sink to wash up. "I wish you would simply relax, though. Keisuke could have taken the car in to the mechanic later this week..."

"He could," Taiyouko muttered, "but I wouldn't want to give odds on whether he _would_."

"Excuse me, but I _am_ standing right here," Keisuke pointed out.

"But, Jason-san, I hate for you to feel like you have to work in exchange for your stay here..."

"Don't worry about it," he called from the washroom. "I help my brother out with that sort of thing all the time. He has to do it for a living, but for me it's actually kind of relaxing. Keisuke-san, you'll still have to get the car in to the mechanic pretty soon. I changed your oil and took care of a few other little things, but your timing belt's about shot and you have to lift the engine out to do anything about that. I can take care of the brakes, but I'll have to stop by an auto-parts store first. Um, I hate to ask, but could someone bring me some rags? I don't want to mess up your towels, Akiko-san."

By now, Akiko was looking even more flustered. As far as she was concerned, Keisuke's asking Jason to look at their car was akin to asking a doctor to stop by to do some complimentary neurosurgery.

"Don't worry about it Akiko," Taiyouko said, trying to reassure her friend. "If it makes him feel more at home, then you're being a perfect hostess. Besides, if the repairs don't work, you know exactly where he's staying."

"I suppose you're right, Taiyouko-san," Akiko said, but she sounded doubtful. Taiyouko was astounded that she hadn't forcibly restrained Wright from playing mechanic. Being a proper hostess was something that Akiko worried about to the point of neurosis. Another thing that surprised her was that Akiko was using Jason's given name instead of his family name after only a week.

Meanwhile, Satoru and Daisuke raced to bring Jason some rags. Taiyouko watched grimly. The two boys had clearly developed some degree of hero-worship for the American. She heard the teasing tone in Jason's dark tenor voice, then the boys' shrieks of laughter as Jason did a dead-on impression of their favorite anime character, Vash the Stampede.

No doubt about it—Jason was weaseling his way into the Takamori family.

"So, how does it feel to have a fifth child around the house?" Taiyouko drawled, trying to cover up her unease. She'd dropped by the Takamori house this morning to have coffee with Akiko, then drag Jason off on a little trip. She didn't need the lurker's warnings to tell her that Jason was bad news. She had Anita's report to tell her that. She also needed to find out what his connection to Chiba was. Given his reactions at the boy's apartment the other day, it was obvious that Jason had his own agenda when it came to Chiba.

"Fifth child? It's more like having a _sixth_ child, if you ask me," Akiko said with a pointed glance at Keisuke, who was now lying on the living-room floor and wrestling with Megumi. Misako, the oldest of the Takamori children, was pulling on Jason's shirt and trying to get him to promise to play catch with her when he got back.

Taiyouko looked at her partner's family a little sadly. There was a part of her that didn't want to believe what she'd read about Jason Wright. He was likeable enough, took her teasing fairly well, and was able to get in a jibe or two of his own. She _wanted_ to like him.

Normally, if she'd read the files on Jason and his pals Kellerman and Lewis, she would have been outraged, but she might have been able to ignore the implications of the incident described in them. She never would have ignored it if it were a member of her own department, but the American was not under her jurisdiction and would be going away after a few weeks. Now, because of the lurker's prompting, it was hard not to see Jason as an active threat.

How much of a threat, she didn't know. Things felt urgent enough that she'd put off plans to find Chiba and take him on a little drive past the site of the so-called 'accident.' She had to find out before any hint of that threat made itself known to her unofficial family. If something happened to Akiko and the kids, she'd never forgive herself.

If necessary, she'd find some way to get Jason out of the Takamori household for good.

By the way, she thought to the lurker, I still don't trust _you_ either. I know you wiped my memory of something the other night. That's not exactly something that gets you onto my 'nice' list.

She could feel the lurker sigh. I only did that because you were getting upset, it said.

Whatever, Taiyouko thought, taking another sip of coffee. Just don't do it again, or I'll show you 'upset.' Also, this thing with Wright had better not turn out to be a wild goose chase. Are we clear?

Crystal, snarled the lurker.

Oh, don't get into a snit, Taiyouko replied.

Booting the lurker back to the recesses of her mind, Taiyouko interrupted Keisuke and Jason's oh-so-interesting sports talk.

"You working from home today, Keisuke?"

"I figured I would, if that's okay with you, since it's the kids' off-week for Saturday classes. I was planning to compare the old motor vehicle records to what I pulled out of the computer yesterday evening and see if there were any notable discrepancies."

"Of course it's okay. You don't have to ask, you know that" she replied. Keisuke was one of the few people she would unhesitatingly classify as a decent human being. "As for you, Wonder Boy, you're on the clock as of fifteen minutes from now. Go get changed. I want to be in Kamakura before the tourist crowds get too nasty. We're going to drop in on Mr. Semyon Renko and see if his story of the 'accident' still holds water."

And if I can kill two birds with one stone on this trip, she thought, so much the better.

* * *

11:01 a.m.

Sometimes, Rei had a nagging feeling that their future wasn't going to be everything they assumed it was going to be. She looked the clock, then back down at the array of cards on the table. As with every other reading she'd done this morning, the array ended with the World—Crystal Tokyo, or so she assumed. She drummed her fingers on the table and bit at her lower lip in annoyance. What she couldn't figure out was why every single reading had taken a radically different path to get there.

In the end, she gave up on the readings and scraped the cards together into a pile. The cards were a haphazard tool at best, and could only paint the future in the broadest of strokes. Maybe trying to get an accurate view of their long-term future was beyond the scope of their use. Oh, well.

If only there were some _safe_ way for her to find out more! She knew that Usagi and the others would be disappointed and unsettled by what she'd found. Still, given what had happened earlier that morning, she was not about to risk the fire.

Outside, Phobos and Deimos cawed loudly in happy greeting. Usagi and Mamoru must have arrived.

Rei met them on the porch. Luna and Artemis were tagging along to see if anything she'd turned up seemed familiar.

"Hey, guys! Come on in! I've got the tea ready, then I've got something I want to show you."

As she poured the tea, Rei told them a little of the talk she'd had with her grandfather. Mamoru was all for the idea of her going to Kokugakuin, but Usagi looked sad.

"I was hoping that just once, we'd all be able to be in the same class together!" she explained.

"College isn't like high school," Rei pointed out. "Besides, what makes you think we'd even be at the same level, or studying the same thing?"

She and Usagi bickered a bit over that, but that was only to be expected. Once they ran out of steam, Mamoru filled her in on what he was studying in med school. Rei shivered. His stories of doing rounds in the burn ward reminded her of her close call with the fire several days ago.

Usagi looked at her watch, then stared pointedly at Rei.

Rei nodded. The others—minus Ami, of course—would be here at a little before noon so they could meet this Sailor Sun person. There was only a half-hour or so to go over what she'd found out about the detectives.

The miko took a deep breath and launched into her speech. She doubted that Usagi and Mamoru would like what she had to say. It was probably best to start with the bad news.

"I've been meaning to do a fire reading to find out some more about what's been going on, but right now, I don't think that's such a good idea."

Luna looked angry and Usagi looked puzzled until Rei told them about the visions in which she felt she was being watched. Usagi squirmed and made faces when Rei told them about the bugs.

"I see," Artemis said grimly. "So I guess there's no way we can use your psychic abilities, huh?"

"I didn't say that" Rei said. She put the deck of cards on the table. "Normally, I receive my visions or premonitions directly up here" she said, tapping one finger to her forehead. "The cards act as sort of an intermediate step. By using these, I should be reasonably safe from any kind of spiritual attack. Unfortunately, I can only get general impressions, and ones that could be interpreted in several different ways."

"Well, if that's the best you can do, that's the best you can do," Mamoru said. He didn't seem too bothered by the news. "Did anything interesting come up?"

"Yes." She looked cautiously at her future king. He might have been asking what she'd had for breakfast for all the interest in his voice. "First of all, I found out a few things about that female detective of yours. You did ask me to do a reading on her, remember?"

Usagi started to say something but Rei shushed her.

Rei thumbed through the deck and pulled out three cards, which she lay face-up on the table.

"Whoever this woman is, I don't think we can afford to ignore her. Every time I did a reading on her, one of these three turned up as her signifier." She gestured at the cards she'd put on the table.

Judgment. Justice. The Fool.

"The Fool?" Usagi asked. She leaned forward to get a better look. "Well, Mamo-chan, maybe this person's not as smart as Saori seems to think she is."

"Would you just let me explain, Usagi?" Rei snapped. "It doesn't mean she's foolish or stupid. There are a several possible meanings, but it narrows down a little when you look at the other two cards. Let's start with the first meaning. The Fool kind of shows up in modern playing cards..."

"The Joker, right" Artemis asked. "Let me guess, she's going to attack Gotham Cit—erk!"

His quip ended abruptly when Luna bit his tail.

Rei figured it was best to pretend that nothing had happened. "It could mean that she's a literal 'wild card.' Whatever it is she's up to, she's going to be pretty unpredictable. Another thing is that the Fool is one of the hardest cards to pin down in terms of where it fits in with the other cards. Some experts put it at the beginning of the deck, and others put it at the end, instead of the World card. Other decks put it next to last, between Judgment and The World, and that's where I think it belongs in this case. I'll explain more in a bit."

Usagi looked completely lost, while Mamoru seemed only vaguely interested, almost as if he was humoring her by listening to the reading. Luna was paying rapt attention to Rei's reading. Artemis was sulking.

"Normally, I'd say that the Fool has to do with making mistakes based in deliberate ignorance," Rei continued. She did not miss the way Usagi looked at Mamoru at this announcement. "In this case, however, I'm tempted to read it differently. I got a strong feeling that it's not the Fool itself that's important—it's this. Take a closer look at the picture on the card."

The card showed a young man dancing heedlessly along the edge of a cliff. A small dog was nipping at his heels. It was unclear whether the dog was egging the dancer on, or warning him to get away from the edge. A blinding sun shone in one corner of the sky.

"I'm particularly interested in the cliff." There was a sharp intake of breath from Mamoru. Rei winced. She'd heard the story of how his parents were killed. "Anyhow, the cliff indicates that there's going to be a big change of some kind, and unfortunately, there's no way to predict what kind of change we're talking about here."

As she explained, she berated herself silently. She'd sensed that the cliff was important, but she hadn't thought it could be a literal cliff, since the cards hardly ever worked that way. When she had time, she would have to rethink some of her conclusions.

"So is she on our side or not?" asked Luna.

"I've got a nasty feeling that you may be asking that question the wrong way around," Rei said. "Take a look at the next card."

This one showed a stern looking person on a throne. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman. He or she wasn't a king or queen, but was obviously quite powerful. In one hand was a tiny set of scales. In the other was an unsheathed sword. Something about the look in the person's eyes said that he or she was ready and willing to use it if need be.

"The Justice card usually connotes absolute, merciless justice. It demands that people recognize their mistakes and make amends. Usually, it has a lot to say about the past or past actions."

Again, Usagi furtively glared at Mamoru. What was going on there? Was there more to this meeting than Usagi was telling her?

"Fortunately, this card usually indicates accurate, unbiased judgment. I hope that's a _good_ thing."

"But we're the good guys!" Usagi exclaimed. "If she's for justice, wouldn't she be an ally?"

Rei sincerely hoped so. "Now take a look at Judgment." The last card showed an angel blowing a trumpet and people emerging from their graves, alive and healthy. There was no indication on the card as to what would happen to them next. "This usually signifies the ending of something. Along with endings, it means resurrecting the past—sort of a tying up of loose ends and telling everyone 'whodunit,' if you want to think of it that way. Now here's the funny part—this card can also signify 'rebirth' along with ending."

Everyone nodded, even though Luna and Mamoru were the only ones who seemed to be getting the explanation.

Rei shuffled through the deck until she found the image of a dancing woman surrounded by a wreath of flowers. "The World is the card of the completion and perfection that follows the time of Judgment. If I'm right, and I'm pretty sure I am, the World symbolizes Crystal Tokyo, and Neo Queen Serenity's reign."

The room was perfectly silent for several seconds before Rei continued.

"Remember what I said before, how the Fool can sometimes stand between Judgment and the World?" She waited while the implications of that statement sank in.

"I see." Mamoru looked grim. "She's a wild card, she's an agent of change..."

"And two of the cards associated with her apparently stand between us and Crystal Tokyo, and there's no indication as to whether she's an enemy or an ally," Luna pointed out. The cat sighed and lashed her tail. "Just once, I'd love for us to be beset by tiny, insignificant problems with clear and simple solutions."

"Monsters you could kill with a flyswatter and who call ahead for an appointment," Artemis said wistfully. "I'm with you on that one, Luna."

"Now, I went ahead and did some readings on you, Mamoru-kun." When she saw the horrified look on his face, she apologized profusely. "I'm not trying to snoop, honest! I did my readings to see if they could give me some clue as to what this woman wanted."

Usagi leaned forward eagerly. If anything, Mamoru looked even more agitated than before. What was going on here? First Michiru had started acting strangely, and now Mamoru and Usagi were joining in! Not for the first time, Rei thought that there was much more to this detective business than they'd told the group the other day. What was wrong with everyone? They were supposed to trust each other, weren't they?

Rei cleared her throat and went on. The others would be here in a few minutes, and it wouldn't do to get angry. Besides, there was still more to explain. "It might be better to say that I've been trying to get some readings about you concerning all of this, Mamoru-kun, but it just isn't working. Watch."

She rapidly dealt out ten cards in a cross-and-staff pattern, swept up the cards, then dealt them out again. Mamoru and Usagi were baffled at first, but after the third layout, Mamoru nodded.

"It's coming up differently each time, isn't it?" he observed. It was subtle, but she could hear a note of relief in his voice.

"Not only that, but each reading also contradicts itself. You get folly and wisdom, certainty and chance, progress and decline, and so on. Then, the final card always shows an outcome that's completely unrelated to anything else in the reading," the miko explained. "Even on the simpler readings, all I get is a bunch of random nonsense. Usually everyone has just two or three cards that act as a signifier, but I couldn't pin one down for you, Mamoru-kun."

Usagi stared at the cards as if they were a serpent, coiled to strike. "So do these mixed-up readings mean that Mamo-chan's in danger?"

"That's the problem. I don't know," said Rei. She addressed her next remarks directly to Mamoru. "The cards become even more random when I try to dig deeper into your past..."

Mamoru's mouth thinned to a line, but said nothing. Usagi glanced anxiously at Rei and locked gazes with her, making a silent plea. Rei nodded in acknowledgement. So she wasn't the only one to notice that Mamoru was acting oddly. Whatever was going on, Usagi desperately wanted to talk about it—alone.

"If you want to compare the cards to a sort of radio or television receiver, it's like I'm getting nothing but snow and static." She tried to gauge what Mamoru was thinking, but she could not. "Psychically speaking, you're essentially invisible."

Usagi hugged herself and shivered.

"Now what about the American?" Artemis asked. "It looked to me like you two had some kind of 'special moment' when you shook hands, Mamoru-kun."

If looks could kill, Artemis would be a pair of ear-muffs right about now, Rei thought.

"I think I may have run into your American the other day," Rei said. She explained about the encounter outside of Mako-chan's apartment. "There's something about him that feels oddly familiar. As it turns out, he was there to meet with Detective Seidou, who interestingly enough, has the apartment right above Mako-chan's."

"Ah, yes. The coincidences just keep on piling up," muttered Artemis.

"Speaking of coincidences," Usagi said, making a face at Rei when she tried to shush her, "it turns out that Seidou-san's an old friend of my Mom's. This morning, Mom told me an interesting story about Seidou-san."

As Usagi recounted the story she'd heard from her mother, the mood in the room became even gloomier.

"That's more than interesting," said Luna. "I'd call that troubling. We'll have to have Ami look into her background—something I should have thought of earlier. Getting back to the subject, what were you able to find out about the American, Rei-chan?"

Once more, Rei leafed through the deck, pulled out a card, and tossed it onto the table. It was the Knight of Cups. It showed a young man seated on a light gray horse and holding out a cup that looked suspiciously like Sailor Moon's grail.

"This showed up as the first card every time I tried to get a reading on him" she explained. "What's funny is that half the time it shows up right side up, and half the time it shows up reversed." She reached out and pivoted the card to illustrate as she spoke. "Right side up, this card could describe an honest and intelligent young man. It could also suggest an ally from another land. The other way around, it signifies treachery and a betrayal of trust."

Slowly, Mamoru reached out and picked up the card. For the next few minutes he simply stared at it, studying it, with an expression that Rei could not read.

The silence was broken by another round of joyous cawing. The others must be coming up the steps. Any further speculation about the cards would just have to wait.

* * *

11:29 a.m.

"Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go-oh-oh, I wanna be sedated... Nothin' to do, no way to go home, I wanna be sedated..."

The scenery wasn't exactly zooming by. Taiyouko, Jason had discovered, was one of those drivers who always stayed precisely one kilometer per hour below the speed limit. At least she'd agreed to take one of the department's cars. If he had to ride all the way to Kamakura in Taiyouko's little econo-box, he'd emerge looking like Quasimodo.

"Get me to the airport and get me on a plane... Hurry-hurry-hurry before I go insane... I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain, no-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh..."

At least the car trip gave him a chance for him to relax. He leaned back and looked at the scenery crawling by.

"Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go-oh-oh, I wanna be sedated..."

A sudden elbow in the rib cage made him sit up straight.

"Wright, if you don't stop singing, then so help me, I _will_ sedate you!"

He glared at Taiyouko. That elbow had hurt. "Sorry," he growled. He'd gotten the song stuck in his head on endless repeat, but didn't realize he'd been singing it out loud.

The little spurt of energy he'd had that morning was gone. He was exhausted and in no mood to put up with Taiyouko's typical surliness. Maybe it was the fatigue talking, but he felt like Taiyouko was mad at him for some reason. Well, if she was, it was up to her to tell him why.

The more time he spent with Taiyouko, the more he was tempted to ask her if she ever got tired of always being so angry all of the time. He couldn't recall a time he'd seen her when she wasn't at least a little pissed-off about something. On the other hand, he had work to do here. He honestly wouldn't mind dying in the line of duty, but getting himself clubbed to death with an overstuffed tote bag—and one decorated with gingham ducklings wearing little sunbonnets, at that—would not be a heroic or even productive way to leave this life.

"So, is there anything else you'd like to go over with me before we get there?" he asked.

"You're the one who dug up the Soviet angle on Renko, and you've read through my notes, so your as up on that as I am." Taiyouko ran through a rapid change of expressions, as if conducting a debate inside her mind. When she finally spoke, the unexpected change of subject nearly gave him whiplash.

"Have you ever heard of Amaterasu?" she asked casually.

Jason nodded. What did Amaterasu have to do with anything? "She's supposed to be the Kami of the sun, right? I think I remember that she had three sacred treasures, but I don't remember what they were." He was lucky he remembered even that much. Second grade was a long, long time ago.

Taiyouko chuckled. "Got it in one, Wonder Boy. I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that. As for the treasures you mentioned, there was a mirror, a sword, and some jewel thingie. I think they were supposed to represent truth, justice, and one other thing, but I can't recall what it is."

Jason was tempted to riff on the 'truth, justice, and the American Way' idea, but his ribs were still sore from where he'd been elbowed. "You know, the whole Amaterasu thing strikes me as weird, now that I think about it."

"Weird? How so?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's because most sun deities are male, right? And aren't they usually the big guns? Ra, the Aztec gods, all those guys? Plus, Japan's not exactly big on women's rights."

"Well, the ancient Japanese were unusually enlightened," Taiyouko snarled. "Too bad we seem to have lost all of that. Anyway, Kamakura's home to the Amanawa Shrine. It's been a shrine to Amaterasu for well over a thousand years. It's a miniature of the Ise Shrine—you know, the Imperial Family's shrine? The Amanawa shrine's usually pretty quiet. It doesn't get much in the way of tourist traffic, since Kamakura goes a bit overboard in promoting the Giant and Highly Overrated Statue of the Buddha. If you ask me, I think Amaterasu would be pissed."

"You're telling me all this why, exactly?" he snapped. Taiyouko's flippant attitude towards religion bothered him more than he cared to admit. Besides, he liked the giant Buddha. He'd gone there on a field trip years and years ago, and had fond memories of it. They'd been allowed to go inside the statue itself, which to a six year old, had been on the same level of cool as taking a ride on a fire engine.

"This is supposed to be a cultural exchange program, right? Well, I'm being cultural."

Then, she laughed, and it seemed as if her mood had improved somewhat. "Actually, the Amanawa shrine's right near where we're going. There are some nice private homes in the hills around there" she said. "One of them's Renko's. It's not actually his, though. It turns out he's in a super-private and super-swanky nursing home-that's why we didn't have a number listed for him as such. He used to a big piece of property nearby, though. He signed it over to his daughter when he went into the home. Nice little tax dodge, that."

"I'll say." Jason wondered how on earth a foreigner, and one from a communist country at that, had been able to afford property in Japan. Back in the States, they'd been having trouble with Russian immigrants getting into organized crime. Maybe Renko had started up something similar here in Japan. "How long has he been in the nursing home?"

"Just a couple of years. He's got to be pushing ninety by now." She glanced at Jason and grimaced. "Here's hoping he's not in there for Alzheimer's or something like that. I want to get something useful out of this interview."

"His doctors didn't give you a hassle about going in to interview him?"

"They didn't sound too thrilled, but what are they going to do about it" she said cheerfully.

Jason sighed in envy. The Japanese police certainly had a lot more leeway when it came to interviewing suspects or conducting a search or seizure. It must be nice, he thought. He leaned back, trying to get another few moments of rest before he had to be in detective mode. With any luck, this trip would be both productive and uneventful. Then he could go back to Keisuke's and sleep for fourteen hours. As he dozed, the song that had been stuck in his head for several days now, the one he'd tried to get rid of by mentally listening to the Ramones, trickled back into his inner ear.

"Hope you have got your things together... Hope you are quite prepared to die... Looks like we're in for nasty weather... One eye is taken for an eye..."

This time, he got punched in the arm—hard.

"Wright, what did I just tell you about the singing?"

"Sorry."

Although Jason remained silent for the rest of the ride, John Fogarty's voice went on in his mind.

_Don't go 'round tonight, for it's bound to take your life... There's a bad moon on the rise..._

* * *

Author's Notes:

First of all, a great big "thank you" to Ice Princess and Luna Hope, who have been a huge help as beta readers.

By the way, the 'what's-her-name from Rei's school' is Kotono/Kate, and she appeared in the Black Moon arc in the manga.

Tapas Bite-sized pieces of Spanish yumminess.

Manga/anime divergence: In the Stars arc, Mamoru is killed by Galaxia as he is going to America to study medicine. In the anime, this happens on the plane on the way there. In the manga, Mamoru is killed in the airport _while Usagi is watching_. Obviously, I'm following the manga on this one.

Tanabata is a festival that is celebrated on July 7. There's actually a Sailor Moon Tanabata story at the end of Vol. 10 of the manga. I will warn you, however, that those with even the teeniest bit of feminist sensibility will want to hurl objects at the wall after reading it.

"I Wanna Be Sedated" is, of course, by the Ramones. May you rest in peace, Joey and Dee-Dee. "Bad Moon Rising" is by Creedence Clearwater Revival.


	10. Fallen Heroes Part I

Empire of the Sun by Sophia Prester  
  
Disclaimer and Author's Notes: If you don't know where these are by now, you haven't been paying attention.  
  
  
  
Chapter Ten: Fallen Heroes (parts one and two)  
  
Saturday, July 7 12:20 p.m.  
  
"You don't think anything has happened to them, do you?" Sailor Moon asked for what must have been the third time. "They're almost a half-hour late."  
  
Mars muttered something about pots calling kettles black, but Moon was too worried to notice. Sailor Uranus just shook her head. Waiting for Mercury to show up with this 'Sailor Sun' girl was starting to feel more like waiting for Godot. Conversations started and stopped like unsatisfying spatters of rain on a hot, sticky day.  
  
Uranus saw that Neptune was fighting hard to stay awake. Her eyes would droop closed and her head would sink forward, then all of a sudden she'd jerk herself bolt upright. Uranus slid her hand under the flap of Neptune's collar and rubbed her back gently. The muscles felt as tight as steel cables.  
  
"It's okay, love," Neptune said. "It's been a bad week, that's all."  
  
Uranus mumbled something she hoped sounded encouraging. Neptune often got upset after encounters with her mother, but she usually got weepy and angry, not withdrawn like this. Besides, this had been going on for a few days now, and Uranus was starting to get more than a little frightened. Was she mad about the fight she'd had with Setsuna the other night? Was this sleep apnea or whatever it was far more serious that she was letting on? She wished she could confront Neptune *now* and get it all over with, but this was neither the time nor the place, not with everyone sitting cheek and jowl like this.  
  
They were, of course, all in Senshi form. Given that this girl apparently knew where Makoto lived and would soon find out where Rei lived, it was a relatively useless precaution, but Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto had strongly seconded Luna's suggestion that they hide their civilian identities for now.  
  
Even if this girl turned out to be an ally, it was better to be safe than sorry, Uranus thought. Protecting the Princess was the most important thing in the world to her.  
  
She stole another glance at Neptune. *One* of the most important things, she amended.  
  
"It doesn't surprise me that they're running late," Venus said lazily. She was stretched out on the floor, with her hands under her head. "Sailor Gump doesn't strike me as the punctual sort, you know?"  
  
"Venus!" Mars, Saturn, and Luna all exclaimed at once, while Uranus hid her laugh with a fake cough.  
  
"What?" Venus demanded. "What did I say?"  
  
"Don't worry about it," Jupiter said. "If they met at the junkyard at noon, it'll take them a little while to get here."  
  
While Venus and Artemis bickered about Venus's latest bout of mouth-brain disconnect, everyone went back to waiting quietly and nervously. If this new girl was as flighty as Mercury and Venus had indicated, Uranus thought, she might have skipped out on them altogether. She'd voiced her opinion on that once already, and had immediately been denounced as a pessimist.  
  
Uranus preferred to think of herself as a *realist*, thank-you-very-much. Goodness knows this group needed a few more of those around. Although Sailor Moon's kind heart had saved the day more often than not, Uranus knew there would come a time when sentiment would get them into more trouble than it would get them out of.  
  
"I hope this new Senshi knows something about the golems," Pluto said, finally breaking the silence.  
  
"Well, she certainly knew how to destroy them," Venus chimed in.  
  
"Yes, but I hope she also knows what they're after," Pluto continued. "I'm also hoping she has some idea about these dreams that some of you have been having. I don't like it that so many of you have started having past visions at the same time that the golems started showing up."  
  
Uranus felt Neptune shift next to her. "Setsuna, are you certain you don't remember anything about these golems?"  
  
"Honestly, don't you think I'd tell you if I did?"  
  
Uranus couldn't look Pluto in the eye. They still hadn't gotten back on even ground after their fight the other evening. She wanted to believe that her friend was telling them everything, but Uranus still couldn't help but feel that she was being misled, somehow. Almost instinctively, Uranus let her hand drift so that she could touch Neptune. Neptune had shifted to one side, however, and Uranus connected with nothing but empty air.  
  
"I haven't had any visions about the golems as such, but I keep thinking that I should know what they are," said Mars. She got up and pulled a sheet of paper from her desk. It was the image Mercury had captured of the golems' mark. She handed it to Usagi. "I could swear that I've seen this before--and in *this* life, too--but I can't remember where or when."  
  
Moon agreed that it looked familiar. "I also know that I *don't* like it," she added. She passed it to Jupiter, who just shook her head and passed the paper on to Venus.  
  
"Doesn't ring a gong," Venus said.  
  
Saturn looked at it and shivered. "If I never see it again, I wouldn't be too upset. I don't think I ever saw it anywhere but on the golem, though," she said before handing the paper to her foster parents. Neptune studied it briefly then said she didn't recognize it.  
  
Uranus studied the sign a bit more carefully. Its lines ran thick-to-thin as in calligraphy. It was basically an off-kilter triangle with slightly bowed sides. At the left-most corner, two edges intersected slightly rather than meeting at a tidy point. A small, roughly Z-shaped swoosh overlapped the uppermost corner, and a large dot hovered just above the upper bar of the 'Z'.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen, who was sitting immediately to Uranus's left, studied it at the same time. "You know, it does look kind of familiar," he said after a moment. "I agree with Usa-ko--it doesn't exactly bring back any happy memories." He laughed bitterly. "It's not often that *I'm* the one who gets to remember things."  
  
Uranus shrugged. The symbol looked innocuous enough to her. Still, she hadn't seen it under the kind of circumstances Saturn had encountered. "I hope you guys can figure it out soon," she said to Tuxedo Kamen and the others. "I'd like to find out who's behind these things before we get to the usual world-ending crisis."  
  
Nobody disagreed with her.  
  
Mars's crows started raising a fuss, and Mars looked at the door. "They're here."  
  
Everyone was instantly on the alert, at once eager and apprehensive about the newcomer.  
  
Just as the suspense became unbearable, Mercury walked in, leading Sun by the hand. Although Mercury was smiling, the smile was a little too bright, and looked as if it had been ironed on.  
  
The girl behind her kept looking all around her, her mouth open in stupefied wonder. When she saw all of the girls looking straight at her, she gave a little 'eep!' of surprise and ducked behind Mercury. Unfortunately, she didn't let go of Mercury's hand. From the way Mercury's eyes widened, Sun's actions must have wrenched her shoulder rather badly.  
  
Mercury just kept on smiling, but her teeth were tightly clenched together. "Our trip here wasn't *too* eventful," she finally said.  
  
What she didn't say communicated volumes about their trip to the shrine.  
  
Sun continued to stand behind Mercury, like a child hiding behind its mother's skirts when being introduced to a stranger. Given that Sun was half a head taller than Mercury, it didn't really work.  
  
"Sailor Sun, I'd like you to meet the group. Everyone, this is the newest member of the Senshi team," Mercury said carefully. She sounded exhausted. And what was this about the girl being a member of the team? Uranus shook her head.  
  
Mercury stepped to the side so that Sun stood in full view of the group. Sun blushed bright red and seemed to find the floor extraordinarily fascinating.  
  
Uranus looked her up and down, trying to size her up. It was about time they had a redhead in the group. Aside from the hair--which would probably come down to her knees if unbraided--Uranus found little to interest her. Oh, Sun was easy enough on the eyes, but only in a purely academic sense. The only way she could ever be attracted to this girl was in the same way she might be 'attracted' to a painting by Botticelli. No, not even *that* much, come to think of it.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen, too, looked a bit puzzled. Uranus had caught him casting an appreciative glance at the other girls upon occasion, but that was only natural. He may have been engaged, but he certainly wasn't dead. Well, not at present, anyhow.  
  
Uranus leaned over to him and whispered, "Looks--ten. Sex appeal--zero, right?" and had the satisfaction of having him turn bright red *and* of seeing Moon give him a withering look.  
  
Neptune nudged her and smirked. "Are you being mean again, love?" she said softly.  
  
"Just doing my job." In her opinion, Mamoru needed to loosen up before he snapped in two. Her fit of mischief passed, and she returned to studying the newcomer. "I'm not ready to trust her, are you?"  
  
Neptune shook her head, just enough for Uranus to notice. "Let's see how this plays out."  
  
Uranus reached out and squeezed her partner's hand affectionately. That felt like more words than they'd exchanged in the past two days together.  
  
Sun finally stepped forward and bowed awkwardly. "I'm very pleased to meet you all, and thank you for inviting me to your home," she recited. She looked up at the group and a big smile spread across her face. "Oh! The kitties are here, too!"  
  
The kitties certainly were there, and they were checking out the escape routes. Chibi Moon cradled Diana to her protectively. Luna, however, took a deep breath and got up from Moon's lap and walked across the table towards the new Senshi.  
  
"We're quite pleased to meet you too," Luna said. "I only wish this were under happier circum..."  
  
Sun squealed with delight. "You *can* talk!" In one swift move, Sun snatched Luna up and very nearly squeezed the life out of her. She rested her cheek on the top of Luna's furry head. "Mother said the Moon cats could talk, but I've never ever seen a talking cat before." She looked solemnly at the others. "The cats at home are mean. They bite."  
  
Luna looked as if *she* was sorely tempted to bite. Sun had both arms tightly wrapped around the cat, right under her forelegs. Luna's body and hind legs dangled, and it looked *very* uncomfortable.  
  
"Why don't you put Luna down," Mercury said gently, as if talking a jumper down from the thirty-second floor. "I don't think she can breathe when you hold her like that."  
  
Sun dropped Luna like a scalding hot porcupine. The cat landed on all four feet with a bone-jarring thump. Luna stalked back over to Moon, stiff- legged and ears back, then groomed herself roughly in an attempt to regain her composure.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen nudged Uranus. "It's the eyes," he whispered. "That's what's wrong."  
  
He was right. Sun's eyes were unusually dull--not glassy, but almost dry. Uranus had to look away after a moment because her own eyes were starting to itch in sympathy. How could the girl stand it? Or was the dullness only a trick of the light?  
  
Mercury urged Sun to sit down. "Why don't I introduce you to everyone, and then we..."  
  
"I can show you all my crystal!" Sun said eagerly. "It can tell me who you are! It's fun!"  
  
"Yes, it's very interesting," Mercury said, "but we have a lot to talk about." Her voice trailed off when she saw Sun's expression grow morose.  
  
"Please?" she begged. "It won't take long. I *promise*. Mother said I should show it to you. It's really pretty, and Mother *said* I could."  
  
Mercury looked desperately at the rest of the group. It was no help. No one wanted to be the one to disappoint the girl.  
  
"Okay," Mercury said. Any exasperation she may have felt was blown away by Sun's brilliant smile.  
  
Uranus nodded in approval. Sun did look much better when she was smiling. It was funny to see her literally quivering with excitement.  
  
"She seems harmless," she whispered to Neptune. "It's early to tell, but I don't see how she could be hiding anything."  
  
Neptune nodded. "True. I also wonder how much this mother of hers knows, or what she wants. We still should watch what we say."  
  
Uranus agreed. The two of them knew better than anyone else that being a Senshi didn't necessarily mean being on the same side.  
  
Meanwhile, Sun had somehow pulled an egg-sized crystal from out of nowhere. It didn't shine like the Ginzuishou, at least not until Sun held it out to each Senshi in turn. The way she thrust it out eagerly reminded Uranus of the dog she'd had growing up. The silly thing had a beloved and thoroughly disgusting tennis ball that it would shove in her hand when she least expected it, hoping against hope for a game of catch.  
  
Each time the crystal drew near a Senshi, it turned a different color. Sun would think very carefully, then name the Senshi that went with that color.  
  
Uranus was fascinated by the display. Although the colors were familiar, she had never really noticed their qualities before. Then again, when they transformed, they were usually too worried about an enemy to look closely at the light display that went with each transformation. For Mercury, the crystal turned a bright, shimmering blue that was so pale it was nearly colorless. Venus turned the crystal an insanely rich orange that she could almost taste. Mars's red glowed deep and steady like a stoked furnace, while Jupiter's subtly dappled green was like sunlight through a canopy of leaves.  
  
When Sun came around to her, Uranus was a little surprised at the color the crystal turned. When she transformed, the mystical winds that encircled her were pale gold. Her skirt and henshin pen, however, were dark blue. So, according to the others, was the sigil of Uranus that appeared on her forehead. The crystal was cobalt blue flecked with gold, almost like a piece of lapis lazuli, but the blue was clear, not opaque, so that she could see flecks of gold shining deep within. Like a fragment of the heavens, she thought.  
  
"I don't know what that color means," Sun admitted sheepishly. "I keep getting the rest of you all mixed up."  
  
Uranus introduced herself and was rewarded with that brilliant smile. The girl was sweet, true enough, but Uranus dreaded the prospect of having to go into battle with her. She'd likely be as dangerous to her friends as she was to her enemies.  
  
Neptune turned the crystal the expected bluish-green, but the color rippled and showed flecks of foamy white and a shimmer of sunlight, like the ocean viewed from on high. Uranus wondered what her lover thought of her color. The look of misery and longing in Neptune's eyes startled her.  
  
Uranus reached out and took Neptune's hand once again. She squeezed gently, and Neptune responded by clutching her lover's hand so hard that Uranus nearly cried out. Neptune's grasp relaxed a little, but it still would have taken a crowbar to pry her hand free of Uranus's.  
  
Uranus sighed. There was nothing like having a silent, intense, and intimate discussion in front of nine of your closest friends. Hopefully, Neptune would be in the mood to continue this little 'talk' once they got home.  
  
Before she could catch herself, Uranus wound up venting her frustration on Sun. "Is there a point to all of this?" she demanded. "Can we get on to business?"  
  
To her amazement, Sun actually *cringed*. Uranus fought to keep her resolve, even though she felt like she'd just kicked a puppy. The looks the other Senshi were giving here weren't helping any, either.  
  
"I haven't had my turn yet," Saturn pointed out, giving Uranus her patented Glare of Death. She turned and smiled at Sun. "We've had a lot to worry about lately. She didn't mean to be rude."  
  
Sun smiled joyously, as if Uranus's outburst had not even happened. She held the crystal out to Saturn.  
  
The crystal turned a smoky, softly glowing purple, like the autumn sky at dusk.  
  
"Pretty..." Moon whispered.  
  
Saturn seemed pleased. She thanked Sun, who nearly turned herself inside out in sheer delight.  
  
Sailor Moon turned the crystal a warm silver, much like the Ginzuishou, but turned down several notches in volume and intensity. Wisps of rosy gold, like clouds before sunset, swirled through the silver. Chibi Moon inverted the color combination, turning the crystal a golden pink marbled with silver. Both mother and daughter were enthralled with the display.  
  
Sun was puzzled when they introduced themselves as Sailors Moon and Chibi Moon, but then just shrugged it off and moved on, to everyone's relief.  
  
The crystal didn't even react to Tuxedo Kamen. Sun got up from her seat and actually held the crystal out to him at several different angles. Venus and Saturn were both struggling not to laugh, and when Sun shook the crystal and slapped it several times as if it were a malfunctioning television set, Jupiter was struck with a sudden and violent coughing fit.  
  
"I'm not really a Senshi," Tuxedo Kamen said. He didn't seem the least bit worried by the crystal's non-reaction. In fact, he was one of the ones who was trying not to laugh. "That's probably why it doesn't work."  
  
Uranus noticed that Mars, far from being amused, was focusing intently on the whole incident. When she heard Tuxedo Kamen's theory about the crystal, she frowned and looked very much as if she wanted to say something. Moon didn't look very happy, either. The explanation must have been good enough for Sun, however, for she moved on to Sailor Pluto.  
  
Nearly everyone, including Pluto, gasped as the crystal turned utter black. True, that was Pluto's color, but the utter absence of *any* color was unsettling. This was a blackness so concentrated that it hurt the eyes. Sun yanked the crystal back to her chest, and the black fled from the crystal in a pulse of red-violet light. Uranus recognized the color from Pluto's Dead Scream attack.  
  
"I didn't mean to scare you," Pluto said with the gentle smile she usually reserved for Hotaru and ChibiUsa. "I'm Sailor Pluto."  
  
This did nothing to reassure Sun.  
  
"You're supposed to be at the Gates of Time," Sun said in a terrified whisper.  
  
Pluto took a deep breath, "Yes, that may have been true once upon a time..."  
  
"You're supposed to be at the Gates of Time!" Sun repeated, now sounding more offended than scared.  
  
"...but things are very different, now." Pluto continued calmly.  
  
Sun's forehead wrinkled in thought. "But Mother *said* you were supposed to be at the Gates of Time." She cocked her head to one side. "I don't understand." She looked pleadingly at Mercury.  
  
Everyone sighed in near unison. This was going to be a *long* afternoon.  
  
  
  
12:23 p.m.  
  
Taiyouko parked the car in the visitor's lot of the nursing home. She looked around. "This doesn't look right," she said.  
  
Jason jerked awake. "We're here?"  
  
"Yep. Have a nice nap?" She looked at the gate that led to a path that wound up through a cedar and maple covered slope. The gate was a circular opening cut into a stone wall, like something from an old Chinese garden. A discreet sign told them that this was indeed the place, and that they had come outside of regular visiting hours. That didn't apply to them, as far as Taiyouko was concerned. "Come on, let's have a look at the place."  
  
The lot was deserted. No employees' cars, no loading dock, and no place for the ambulances that would inevitably be summoned to a place like this. She pointed it out to Jason.  
  
He just shrugged. "There's probably an access road around back. This is just the scenic route, I guess."  
  
He had a good point, Taiyouko thought. A peaceful walk up a picturesque path might make people feel like they'd stashed Granny or Gramps in a serene, harmonious place. Still, she would have felt better if there were some signs of life out here.  
  
Five minutes later, she was regretting that she had ever thought that.  
  
"What is it with all of the bugs out here?" she griped, shooing away another swarm of gnats and mosquitoes. "It's not this buggy back in Tokyo."  
  
"That's because the smog has killed them all off," Jason snapped. He slapped at his neck. "That's the fifth time I've been bitten! I'm going to need a blood transfusion by the time we get up there."  
  
That, and a nice cold glass of water, thought Taiyouko. It had been warm this morning, but by the time they'd reached Kamakura, it was downright *hot*. Either that, or she was having another hot flash. And how long was this stupid path, anyhow? She told herself that it would be downhill going back, but that didn't help her *now*.  
  
Her mood was already pretty frayed as it was, and it didn't help that the lurker was getting more and more agitated about being out here alone with Wright.  
  
It. Can. Wait. Taiyouko informed it. I'm on a case, and as long as he's here with me, I'll know what he's up to. I don't want him sneaking off to go find Chiba.  
  
He is responsible for a terrible crime, said the lurker. He must be brought to justice.  
  
Taiyouko rolled her eyes. He was stupid, and there's no way in hell he should still be on the force, she conceded, but it's hardly the worst thing I've ever heard of. Besides, that whole incident is just a little bit out of my jurisdiction, don't you think?  
  
This is not about *now*, the lurker indicated. This is about *before*.  
  
A memory returned to Taiyouko, a memory of a soot-stained palace and the sounds of war. Her throat automatically tightened.  
  
Oh, please, thought Taiyouko, even as she coughed. He's a dirty cop, not Genghis Khan. And what the hell do you mean by *before*? He's from Baltimore, and that place looked like the Taj Mahal. There's a *slight* difference. If this is going into past life memories and all that other crap I don't believe in, then forget it. I need to know if he's a danger *now*. I don't give a rat's ass about your *before*, not unless it has to do with his connection to Chiba or if you think he's a danger to the Takamoris.  
  
Wright turned to look at her. "Are you all right, Seidou-san?"  
  
Taiyouko nodded. "Swallowed a bug." There was no way she was going to tell him that she was having a knock-down, drag-out argument with the voices in her head.  
  
Normally, she could just punt this alien voice right back into her subconscious, but today, something was different. The lurker had grown stronger, somehow. Starting with that weird impromptu lecture about the Amanawa Shrine, it had started trying to elbow her aside--and it was starting to succeed.  
  
We are one and the same! the lurker insisted. I'm not trying to take you over--I *am* you.  
  
Forget it! Taiyouko shot back. How can you be me if you're talking to me?  
  
It was a poor comeback, and she knew it. The petulant voice she'd gotten to know over the past few days was starting to swell to the raging fury that had driven her into the hospital fourteen years ago. She didn't know how much longer she could keep up this internal show of bravado.  
  
By the time they finally reached the top of the path, Taiyouko was out of breath, out of sorts, and out of patience. The lurker was pressing at her mind, demanding to confront Wright about the smoke and war of its lone coherent memory.  
  
The path opened onto a carefully tended garden. There were benches here and there so that visitors could sit and visit with their aged relatives in a peaceful, harmonious setting. The top of the tidy, ultra-modern nursing home was just visible over a screen of oleander and ornamental grasses. The path snaked through the garden, keeping visitors a prudent distance from a picturesque but steep drop-off. Presumably the path would lead them to something resembling a main entrance.  
  
Taiyouko glared at the well-groomed traditional garden. She wanted to get this interview over with, not waste time looking at the scenery. This walk had probably been designed to put the walker in a more serene frame of mind, but today its end result was an extremely tired and aggravated Taiyouko. If the lurker had been smart, it would have laid off harping at its host, but it was more concerned with its own agenda than Taiyouko's rapidly deteriorating temper. In the meantime, Taiyouko also couldn't help stewing about the dirty little secrets she'd found in Wright's records.  
  
All of these factors worked together in a rather unfortunate manner, so that the planned question of "do you know any Russian?" came out more along the lines of:  
  
"So, why don't you fill me in on what happened to Luther Mahoney?"  
  
Even before Jason turned to look at her, face gray with dread, she was cursing herself for a fool. This could have waited until *after* they'd spoken to Renko.  
  
"What do you know about Mahoney?" was his hoarse, bitter question. "How do you know that name?"  
  
Still, now that the question had been asked, there was no way she could cram that particular genie back into its bottle. She sent the lurker a brief mental flash of her sealing it in a jar and dropping it into an active volcano. Thanks to its nagging, she now had to follow through on this to the end--whatever that might be.  
  
She took a deep breath, and started reciting the facts as calmly as she could. "I know that your good buddy Michael Kellerman shot and killed the late and unlamented Mr. Mahoney during a particularly intense encounter, and that you and your partner Lewis were witnesses. I also know that there were some pretty big questions about what happened, and that you and Lewis seemed to have some serious doubts about your answers--assuming you could agree on what those answers were. It seems, too, that a lot of other people had some doubts as well. Some folks in Internal Affairs were of the opinion that Kellerman killed Mahoney in cold blood, and that you and Lewis let him get away with it."  
  
Jason said nothing. He only continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable.  
  
"You and your pals decided to take justice into your own hands, didn't you?" she went on, the anger in her voice rising as she spoke. "One drug dealer against three policemen. You go to arrest him, he resists, he gets shot in the scuffle. Simple as simple can be. Only in this case, there's some indication that Mahoney had already dropped his weapon when Kellerman fired at him. Internal Affairs does a little investigating, and eventually the detectives get off scot free--except *this* time there's a problem. The victim's--no, the *criminal's*--sister decides to stir things up."  
  
Jason had clearly had enough. Taiyouko was impressed. It had taken him longer than she thought to go on the defensive.  
  
"Mahoney was responsible for *dozens* of deaths! And I'm not just talking about the ones from the drugs he sold, either," he said, just barely holding in his anger--at her or at Mahoney, Taiyouko couldn't guess. He looked away, his teeth clenched in disgust. "We could put Mahoney in jail, but not for long. He had good lawyers, he had God knows how many judges in his pocket, and even when he was behind bars, that didn't stop his operation. We weren't just out there to catch criminals, we were patrolling a damned war zone! You'd think we were in Colombia or something. It wasn't just about catching criminals--it was about keeping a city from bleeding to death from inside! You're in no position to judge!"  
  
He turned and strode up the path.  
  
"I guess that also explains the two drug dealers you put into the hospital during your long and stellar career!" she called after him. She didn't want a justification, she wanted an admission of responsibility, damn it! "If you don't have the proof to settle it in court, just use your fists, right?"  
  
Jason kept walking towards the nursing home, not saying a word. Taiyouko almost had to run to keep up with his long strides. She went on with her rant, panting for breath between bursts of anger.  
  
"It can't work that way, Wonder-boy! I'm no idealist, but I do know that much. I also know that you and your little friends screwed up *big time* when you killed Luther Mahoney. How many cops wound up dead because you and Lewis decided to cover for Kellerman's little act of vigilante justice? Three, was it? That's a pretty big load of guilt to be carrying around."  
  
Jason stopped and pivoted in front of her. She barely kept herself from crashing into him.  
  
"Do you think you're telling me anything I don't already know?" he asked, his voice frighteningly even.  
  
"So, you do have a conscience after all," she snapped, desperate to maintain the offensive position. Standing this close to him, she was more aware than ever that Jason was a foot taller than she was, and in *much* better shape than she was. They were also not all that far from the edge of a cliff.  
  
The lurker had worked itself into such a frenzy that it had practically tied itself in knots. Apparently it was just now coming to grips with the fact that its host body was not exactly in fighting trim.  
  
Why, oh why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? This lurker--this whatever it was--was *so* going to pay for this.  
  
It took her a moment to realize that Wright had not answered her. In fact he was staring dumbfounded at something behind her.  
  
Was he trying to distract her? Trying to get her to let her guard down?  
  
"Listen, Wonder-boy..."  
  
A cast iron bench plowed into the ground an arm's length from where she stood, leaving a deep gash in the earth. If it had hit her, she would be very much an ex-Taiyouko.  
  
Taiyouko wheeled around. Two...things...were coming straight at them. They were shambling creatures made of earth, and even though they shuffled and limped, they were moving *fast*. One of them reached down to pick up an ornamental rock. Before it had even touched the rock, Taiyouko had her gun out of her shoulder holster.  
  
Less than two seconds passed, but Taiyouko saw them go by in slow motion as she aimed and fired as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  
  
Two shots. The thing's chest exploded into dust and gravel, but it kept reaching for the rock. The third shot hit it square in the strange symbol on its forehead.  
  
The creature fell apart in a shower of dirt.  
  
Three more of the things had emerged from the tree-line separating them from the nursing home, making four in all. They fanned out and started approaching, moving as if to surround the two.  
  
She looked to see if Jason was freaking out as badly as she wanted to herself. She was almost pleased to see that his face had gone white with shock.  
  
"That mark..." He shook his head slowly, as if denying what he saw. "Michel..." He shuddered and collected himself. "Aim for the mark!" he yelled. It took her a moment to realize what he'd said. In his panic he had switched back to his native language. "Don't bother with the chest shots!"  
  
She nodded grimly. That meant that her first two shots had been wasted. The third bullet had been the one to destroy the thing. That left her with three bullets and four monsters. Great.  
  
Two of them were now in range, and it took less than a second for her to dispatch them both. That left two. She would just have to hope that they could somehow manage to outrun the last one.  
  
She was just taking aim at one of the remaining creatures when the other picked up a stone lantern and hurled it straight at the detectives.  
  
Taiyouko's own instinct to duck collided with the lurker's instinct to pulverize the missile, and she froze.  
  
Jason thrust out a hand to block the lantern. Taiyouko expected to hear snapping bone, but the lantern ricocheted violently off of empty air and just missed hitting the creature that had thrown it.  
  
She turned to Jason. He'd damn well better have an explanation for this...among other things.  
  
Jason now looked...different...in a way she couldn't pin down. The changes to his clothing were unmistakable, but she couldn't figure out what had changed about *him*. For some aggravating reason, her brain kept trying to tell her that the man standing next to her was *not* Jason Wright.  
  
"What's going on? What happened to your clothes?"  
  
"I'll explain later! You get the one by the path!"  
  
Her English was good enough that she caught his meaning easily enough. She nodded and waited until she could get a clear shot at the other. It should have taken less than a second to get rid of it, but the damned thing kept moving back and forth, as if anticipating her aim.  
  
Jason was concentrating on the creature that was coming towards them. He then turned to her and smirked. He'd calmed down enough to recover his Japanese. "Want to see a magic trick?" he teased.  
  
Crackling, blue-white light gathered around his hand and then he literally *threw* the energy at the creature, as if pitching a fastball.  
  
Instantly, Jason doubled over and screamed in agony. He grabbed Taiyouko's shoulder--*hard*--to keep from falling to the ground. He had his other hand clutched over his left eye. The creature kept coming.  
  
"Get...it..." he whispered, even as Taiyouko fired her last bullet into the creature's head.  
  
"You okay, Wright?" she asked. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard someone scream like that.  
  
He tried to nod, and he swallowed convulsively as the motion seemed to set off another wave of pain. "Getting better," he croaked. She could see a faint trickle of blood coming from one ear. He also had a burst blood vessel in his left eye.  
  
"Get better faster, Wonder-boy. There's still one more ugly-bugly out there."  
  
"Can...can you...take care of it? *Damn* my head hurts!"  
  
"Sorry. Out of ammo. Think we can outrun it?"  
  
"Doubtful." He straightened up some more and hissed in pain. "Besides, where would we run *to*?"  
  
Taiyouko shook her head grimly. The damned things had managed to back them towards the drop-off. If they dashed to the right, they *might* be able to make it into the woods, but Taiyouko had no doubt that the thing could tear through the trees as if they were so many toothpicks.  
  
Even now, the last creature was shambling towards them, covering the ground far more quickly than it should have been able to. Taiyouko stooped down and frantically scrabbled around for a rock. She knew she could hit anything she aimed at. Maybe she could throw something hard enough...  
  
Before she could do anything, something grabbed her by the back of her jacket and yanked her clear off the ground. Her yell of surprise quickly turned into a scream of terror as she realized that she had been flung over the edge of the cliff.  
  
  
  
12:25 p.m.  
  
To say that the explanation of Pluto's story wasn't going over well would have been a gross understatement.  
  
Trying to get a new idea into Sun's head was like repeatedly hurling yourself headfirst into a brick wall in the hopes that *this* time, all of your subatomic particles would align just so and you could pass right through without incident.  
  
Sun simply could not comprehend that there were at present *two* Sailor Plutos--one isolated at the gates who would die a thousand years hence while the current 'pre-incarnation' of that Pluto wandered about Tokyo at will--and the whole notion of another Tokyo that didn't yet exist was so incomprehensible that it nearly drove her to tears.  
  
Artemis really couldn't blame the poor girl for being confused. Trying to sort out all of the time-travel paradoxes and philosophical implications of Pluto's situation was enough to make *his* brain hurt.  
  
Sun's bouts of frustration were both disturbing and fascinating to Artemis. The girl's agitation over what she saw as a huge infraction of the rules was clear for all to see and hear. She kept repeating her mantra of 'but Mother *said*...' while plucking at the hem of her skirt. At one point, Mars made the mistake of gently suggesting that Mother might not have all of the facts, and Sun got up and started pacing, hugging herself tightly and muttering something under her breath. When it came to body-language, Sun's emotions came through loud and clear.  
  
What the others couldn't pick up, Artemis knew, was the girl's scent.  
  
It never changed.  
  
There were some elements to her base scent that reminded the cat of Tuxedo Kamen, and others that reminded him of Jupiter and Saturn. Sort of a bright- earthy-metallic smell, but without Saturn's note of burning leaves, or Jupiter's scent of earth after a spring rain. There were other things missing, too. Had she been a feline, Artemis would have assumed she'd been spayed, but even without the female note that all the other girls shared, her scent should have shifted as her moods changed.  
  
Luna and Diana both looked uneasy as well. Luna's ears were turned back, and she kept shifting position in Moon's lap. Artemis hoped that Sun hadn't hurt her too badly with that death-squeeze of hers. Diana was staring intently at the new Senshi as if the newcomer were a mouse, all the while lashing her tail back and forth. Artemis wondered which of the two would be the first to voice her doubts of Sun once the girl had gone home. Probably Diana. She was turning out to be a double-distilled version of her mother, Artemis thought wryly.  
  
Mercury, bless her heart, was the one who solved the problem for them.  
  
"Why don't you ask your mother about it when you get home?" she asked. "I'm sure she can explain *everything.*"  
  
"Okay!" Sun said brightly. She was smiling again, as if the whole issue was forgotten. Too bad that everyone else was now completely frazzled.  
  
Artemis hoped they'd have a chance to meet Sun's mother, whoever she was. She'd probably be able to answer certain questions more ably than her daughter.  
  
"The first time I saw you was the party for the Princess," Sun said. "My crystal told me it was you, so I watched, and I saw the presents, and the cake, and all of the candles. I remember the cake was pink--I like pink but I like yellow better--and there was ice cream..."  
  
Everyone was smiling, mostly in genuine amusement at Sun's innocent sense of wonder, but Artemis could hear the grinding of teeth behind some of those smiles, and Mina's tension was almost enough to drive him from her lap.  
  
Sun was sweet, true, but this was starting to feel like the time he'd gotten his teeth glued together with caramel, or had eaten too many jelly beans at one sitting.  
  
"...I really really wanted to go over and see you all, but Mother said I had to wait. I never get to go to parties," Sun said, dropping a hint with all the subtlety of the Three Stooges in mid pie-fight. Then, just in case they didn't get the hint: "I wish *I* could go to parties like that."  
  
"Sailor Sun, didn't your mother ask you to tell us anything when you got here?" Mercury asked gently while a flurry of conspiracy went on in the background. Chances were it wouldn't be long before Sailor Sun got a 'Welcome to the Team' party, complete with a yellow cake. "On the way here, you said you had something very important to tell us, remember?"  
  
Sun snapped to attention. "Oh! I forgot," she said shyly. "Mother said to tell you that there's an enemy that's after you and wants to kill all of you."  
  
"I'd say that qualifies as important," someone muttered.  
  
"The enemy uses golems," Sun went on. It sounded as if she was reciting something she'd only just memorized. "Golems are evil. You have to hit golems *right here*," she continued, tapping the sparkling white opal on her tiara.  
  
"We know that already," Mars said, earning a stern look from Mercury.  
  
The interruption flustered Sun, and she had to start over, right from the bit where this mother of hers said to warn them of a new enemy.  
  
Chibi Moon and Diana were having an urgent, whispered conversation while all this was going on. Hotaru was leaning in close, and she nodded in agreement a few times.  
  
"The enemy wants to destroy the Senshi and keep the..." Sun paused, her eyes squinched shut in concentration, "...the-Moon-Kingdom-from-being-put- back-together." She looked at the others anxiously. "Did that sound right?"  
  
"Sounds good to me," Mina said. "Well, not exactly *good*, like 'oh, what good news' or anything, but I haven't heard of the goblins..."  
  
"Golems," Sun said.  
  
Jupiter was struck with another coughing fit.  
  
"Whatever. I haven't heard of them attacking anyone besides Senshi."  
  
"Did your mother say *why* the enemy wants to stop the Moon Kingdom from rising again?" Artemis asked. "Did she tell you the enemy's name?"  
  
Sun played with the end of her braid for a moment or two. "I don't know. Mother says they're from before, but I don't know what that means," she admitted glumly. "She told me but I don't remember things that good, but I *do* remember she said that you were in trouble and that I had to help you. That's my job," she said, now beaming with pride.  
  
"So...you're going to help us fight this enemy? As in *you* fighting alongside *us* in battle? That kind of help?" Uranus asked.  
  
Sun smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "Mother said that the kitties could help teach me how to fight!"  
  
Artemis gritted his teeth to keep himself from groaning out loud. Sweet Serenity on a pogo-stick, there had to be *some* way he could get himself out of this! He didn't want to end up getting loved and petted and hugged and squeezed to death.  
  
He looked over at Luna--her eyes had gone glassy with shock.  
  
"We would be honored to help you," Diana managed to choke out. She did a good job of making it seem reasonably sincere.  
  
"I have a question, if you don't mind," said Tuxedo Kamen. At Luna's suggestion, he had introduced himself only as a friend and ally of the Senshi. Sun seemed to accept that well enough. "You keep mentioning your mother. Who is she?"  
  
Sun blinked, and cocked her head to the side. The emptiness in her eyes seemed to fit her expression for once.  
  
Artemis decided to help out. "We've never met your mother, but she sounds pretty wonderful." He was rewarded by another of Sun's billion kilowatt smiles. "We'd like to hear more about what she looks like, what she does, that kind of thing. Would you mind?"  
  
Sun thought it over for a little while. "She's very pretty and she's got all kinds of jewelry she lets me play with if I'm good. She teaches me and helps me not to be so stupid all the time. Even when I mess up, she's always nice to me." She smiled. "If I do good, she brings me lots of magazines and videos."  
  
There followed a brief tangent wherein Sun rattled off the names and main characters of her favorite video series, but Mercury was able to steer her back on course. It soon became clear that Sun's upbringing had been *very* sheltered. Her entire universe consisted of Mother and the other people who lived at Mother's house--the gardener, the cook, the chauffeur, and two or three others she referred to as 'Auntie This' or 'Uncle That'. She seemed fond of them all, even the gardener, who was always yelling at her for playing in the flower beds. People who read to her or played games with her received the highest praise. The only member of the household she did not like very much was a young man who ran errands for Mother.  
  
"He keeps saying I'm just a dummy, even though Mother has told him not to," she said. Her lips were primmed together, and when she spoke, it was with an almost comical air of dignity. "I don't like it when people laugh at me."  
  
The effect, however, was anything but funny. Artemis felt like an utter heel. He hadn't been laughing out loud at Sun, but he knew that once she left, he and Mina would have been among the first to comment on some of Sun's more eccentric behaviors. Several times already he'd bitten back a sarcastic comment or a peal of laughter. He hadn't actually *done* anything or *said* anything, and it wasn't as if they knew Sun well at all, but he still felt ashamed. Judging from the looks of shame and remorse that rippled through the group, he was not the only one who felt this way.  
  
"We'd love to meet your mother," said Mercury. "Do you think you could take us to visit her?"  
  
"It isn't safe right now," Sun said, automatically. Once again, it sounded as if she was working from a script. "The enemy can't know she's here. She said she will see you soon. When it's safe."  
  
When she was finished, she looked around the group expectantly, but no one was sure of what to say. Uranus and Pluto both looked angry and suspicious. Neptune was nodding off to sleep. Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, and Luna all seemed puzzled and concerned, while everyone else was faintly worried. What did Sun mean by 'not safe?' Would this enemy be after Sailor Moon next?  
  
Safe or not, they needed to meet this 'Mother' sooner rather than later, thought Artemis. Mina's dreams about the past had been coming thicker and stronger with every passing night. He knew it from the way she tossed and turned in her sleep, and from the few things she'd told him about in the morning. What she described made little sense, but occasionally he felt an unpleasant shiver of recognition.  
  
Sun's expectant look had turned to one of pure dejection.  
  
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked meekly. "I just told you what Mother told me to say."  
  
Mercury, Moon, and Chibi Moon were quick to try to comfort the girl, but something Sun said to Sailor Moon caused Mina to draw in a sharp breath between her teeth.  
  
"What is it, Mina?"  
  
"I just noticed that she keeps calling Sailor Moon 'Princess'. I *know* we didn't say anything about Serenity," Mina whispered. "I think she knows a lot more than she knows she knows, you know?"  
  
It took Artemis a few seconds to parse that, but he found that what Mina said made perfect sense.  
  
"I'm thinking I should follow her home and see what's what," she continued.  
  
"Not on your life!" Artemis hissed. "Not until we talk it over with the others, at least."  
  
"Spoil-sport."  
  
At Moon's prompting, Tuxedo Kamen produced one of his roses from out of thin air. Sun yelped with surprise and delight at the magic trick, and her mouth fell open into a perfect 'O' when he silently offered the rose to her.  
  
She reached out hesitantly, jerking her hand back a couple of times as if expecting the rose to be snatched away from her, or perhaps recalling past scoldings for being too grabby.  
  
"Go on," Sailor Moon said. Her eyes sparkled with good humor, even as she laid one hand possessively on her fiancé's thigh. "You can take it home with you."  
  
"I can *keep* it?" she asked.  
  
Sailor Moon's gentle laugh was like a chorus of silver bells. Artemis stared in shock. For a moment, she had sounded--and looked--very much like Queen Serenity. Had Moon been growing towards this and he simply hadn't noticed? The change seemed so sudden to him that it was as if it had happened overnight. He was tempted to ask Luna about it, but decided that no, he'd rather not be chided for being an unobservant idiot.  
  
"Of course you can keep it!" the future NeoQueen said. The 'silly' at the end of that exclamation remained carefully unsaid. "It's a present."  
  
With that Sun grabbed the rose, nearly crushing it as she jammed her nose into it to enjoy the fragrance.  
  
"I can really keep it?" she asked one more time, just to be sure.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen nodded, but didn't look up. He was dabbing at his hand with a handkerchief. Sun had yanked the rose from him before he had a chance to let go, and the thorns had scored his palm. If Mina was right about having a cracked rib, then this was the second injury Sun had inflicted on a member of the team.  
  
Artemis tried very hard to avoid thinking about sayings like 'third time's the charm,' or 'things always happen in threes.'  
  
"You know," said Saturn, "even if we can't meet your mother yet, you could still come and spend time with us, if you like."  
  
"Saturn and I were going to the Tanabata festival tonight," Chibi Moon added. "Would you like to come along?"  
  
"Would she like to *what*?" Artemis demanded. In the history of bad ideas, this one would clinch a spot in the top ten.  
  
"Are you sure that's wise?" Luna asked in a tone of voice that indicated that the whole idea of taking Sun to the festival was about as far from wise as it was possible to get. They'd probably have to put her on a leash to keep her under control in a whole park full of bright, shiny objects.  
  
"Maybe we should talk about this a little more," said Tuxedo Kamen. He flexed his hand, stretching the newly healed skin. "Sun's mother might not want her to go out with people she's just met."  
  
The warning came too late. The offer had been made, and there was no way to take it back. The girls were already in mid-chatter, talking about everything they were going to do at the festival. Sun's eyes and her smile grew wide as Chibi Moon and Saturn described the fireworks, and the food, and all of the games to be played and prizes to be won. For some reason, she seemed especially entranced by their description of the goldfish- catching game.  
  
The two youngest--well, youngest *seeming*--Senshi had been diffident about the festival when asked about it earlier, but they were now giggling with excitement and anticipation. Artemis remembered his first couple of years with Mina, and how her behavior constantly flip-flopped from unusually mature to flighty and child-like. He hoped that Uranus and Neptune were up to the challenge of their next year or so with Saturn. He and Luna should probably sit down and have a little talk with them.  
  
"I suppose I had better go along too," Mercury said with a warning glance to Chibi Moon and Saturn. She asked Rei for a piece of paper and a pencil, then scribbled a brief note. She handed the note to Sun. "Give this to your mother when you get back and tell her that you've been invited to go to the Tanabata festival in Ueno park. If she says you can go, meet us here at fi-- when the sun is right about there," she finished, pointing to a spot a few degrees above the horizon. "You'd better show up as you are, so we can recognize you. Then you can de-transform and we'll go to the festival together."  
  
Again, Sun cocked her head to the side. "De...transform? I don't get it."  
  
"Oh, *you* know," said Chibi Moon. "Like this!" She and Saturn de- transformed, their Senshi uniforms spiraling apart into pink and purple ribbons as their everyday clothes faded back in and the magic that hid their identities was dismissed.  
  
Moon slapped her hand to her forehead in disgust, and Diana gave Chibi Moon the 'we're going to have a talk about this' look she had learned from her mother. Pluto's eyes were wide with shock, while Uranus looked like she was about to have a stroke.  
  
"If she saw us at Usagi-san's party, she already knows what our real forms look like," Hotaru pointed out. This did not seem to make Uranus any happier.  
  
"Wow..." said Sun. Her open-mouthed amazement turned to embarrassment a second later. "Mother hasn't shown me how to do that yet," she admitted when Hotaru asked her what was wrong.  
  
All of the people in the room exchanged worried glances. Did this mean that she was Sailor Sun all the time? Surely she had had *some* sort of life before becoming a Senshi, right?  
  
Mercury laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. If you can't de-transform, maybe you could tell us your real name."  
  
Artemis grinned as only a cat could. Mercury was sweet, but that didn't mean she couldn't be sneaky.  
  
Sun just cocked her head to one side and looked at Mercury in bewilderment.  
  
Mercury tried again. "Who are you when you aren't Sailor Sun?"  
  
At this, Sun looked indignant. "I'm *always* Sailor Sun," she stated.  
  
"Hoo-boy," Mina whispered.  
  
"You can say that again," Artemis muttered.  
  
  
  
12:35 p.m.  
  
"I can explain everything!" Jason cried. "Honest!"  
  
Taiyouko just...*looked* at him. Then, slowly, she turned her gaze downwards, as if making careful note of the six inches of empty air between their feet and a large number of very sharp rocks. Next, she looked up, taking in the sight of the large mud-man standing at the top of the cliff. It had just tried to hit them with a stone Buddha.  
  
She looked back at Jason, one eyebrow raised in a way that he had come to loathe.  
  
"Oh, really?" she asked.  
  
Jason licked his lips nervously. This was not making his headache any better. "Okay, I'm not entirely sure where Clayface and company came from, but I've got an idea or two."  
  
"I'm sure you do. Why don't we start with how on earth someone who might be an accessory to murder ended up getting recommended for a high-profile and notoriously exclusive program?"  
  
For a moment, Jason stood in silence, his brain refusing to process the fact that Taiyouko had just said what she had. He'd been expecting something along the lines of 'why are we standing in mid-air,' or even-- although this was expecting a lot from Taiyouko--'thank you so much for pulling me out of the way before that creature bashed my head in *and* for miraculously keeping me from plummeting to my death.' He started counting to ten.  
  
Taiyouko crossed her arms over her chest. "Well?"  
  
Jason kept on counting past ten. "Seidou-san, we just got chased over a three story cliff by a pack of mud monsters. Personally, I'd be more interested in *that* than whether or not I'm a dirty cop."  
  
"Well, you're not me, are you?"  
  
"Thank goodness for that!"  
  
Taiyouko didn't say anything. She simply stood there, face calm, eyes unblinking.  
  
"Listen--I think you're missing the big picture here." Jason pointed up. The remaining mud-man continued to stare down at them. The mark on its forehead glowed dully. "Cliff. Us. Up there. Big scary monsters. Scary, *homicidal* monsters. Us. Down here. Hovering. I don't know if you happened to notice, but *somehow* we ended up not dying in a very messy fashion!"  
  
"So?" Taiyouko continued to wait. She was trying to tap her foot in impatience, but working against empty air made it difficult. "Who sent you here, Wonder-boy?"  
  
"What makes you think I was *sent* anywhere?" Jason yelled. His head was clanging. He wanted to change back to normal and go off somewhere and be unconscious for several hours.  
  
"Oh, nothing except that there's no way you could have qualified for this exchange program. I also noticed that you seemed to recognize Chiba and his little harem. Then there's the fact that Harada-san obviously wanted you assigned to the Chiba case. It took me a little while to figure *that* one out."  
  
Jason remembered the high-voltage phone call Harada had received right before he'd been introduced to Taiyouko and Keisuke, and how he'd been taken aback by Taiyouko's suggestion of the Chiba case, as if he'd been expecting an argument.  
  
"Maybe I *was* sent," he said, almost to himself.  
  
Taiyouko cupped one hand behind her ear. "What's that? A confession?"  
  
"Would you stop with the witch hunt already?" he snapped. Any second now, she'd probably ask him if he was now or ever had been a member of the Communist Party. "If anyone pulled any strings, it sure as hell wasn't me! All I know is that about three weeks ago, Colonel Barnfather..."  
  
"According to your record, that's the one you called an asshole, right?"  
  
"I was exhibiting considerable restraint at the time," he snarled. He thought about a Taiyouko-Barnfather confrontation, and his mood improved slightly. He could probably make a mint by charging admission for something like that. "*As* I was saying, about three weeks ago, Colonel Jackass tells me that I've been selected for this exchange program, and he pretty much tells me that I *have* to go because it's an 'honor' and all that happy horse-shit."  
  
Something finally clicked. "Hey! How the hell did you get my file, anyway?"  
  
Taiyouko tapped the side of her nose and smiled sweetly. "That...is a secret."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"Oh, how will I ever heal my breaking heart," she said flatly. "Now, I can buy the fact that someone sent you here without your knowing about it. That doesn't mean that you don't have your own agenda for this little trip. You obviously know something about Chiba that you're not letting on, and that means that you're withholding information that could be crucial to *my* case. Why don't you tell me what's really going on here?"  
  
There wasn't even an implied 'or else.'  
  
He closed his eyes. There was no way she would believe him, right? He would just have to make something up... No, she'd see through that in a New York second. Of course, she *was* currently suspended about six inches above the ground, so maybe she'd be open to something else a wee bit out of the ordinary.  
  
"Fine. Here's the short version." As he spoke, he ticked off the points on his fingers. "One: About three years ago, I vanished for almost three months after what was probably the most hellish year of my entire life. Two: I reappeared in a Navy hospital with no memory of what had happened during those months. Three: A few months later, after a remarkably unpleasant near-death experience, I not only recover *those* memories, but find out that I've gone all Shirley MacLaine and have memories of a centuries-long past life. Four: I find out that this past life is connected to some serious shit that went down in Tokyo a little over three years ago. Five: I see this Chiba Mamoru person, and the bits of me that think I lived millions of years ago recognizes him as the reincarnated king of the entire planet, *and* recognizes his girlfriends as a pack of super-soldiers from the Moon!"  
  
Taiyouko blinked a couple of times, then continued to stare at him coolly.  
  
"You don't believe a word I've said, do you?" he said smugly.  
  
"Actually, I believe pretty much *everything* you just said, but that's not important right now," Taiyouko said in a surreally casual, matter-of-fact tone.  
  
Jason nearly lost his telekinetic hold on both of them. He really ought to find a spot to put them both down safely.  
  
Taiyouko pulled a box of Pocky out of her pocket and tipped a clump of melted-together sticks into her hand. "Unfortunately for you, that little spiel of your raises more questions than it answers," she said between bites, "and besides, I want to hear more about this Luther Mahoney thing I read about in your files."  
  
It was now Jason's turn to stare. Working with Taiyouko was forcing him to re-think his definition of single-minded.  
  
"That can wait until we get back to Tokyo, though." Taiyouko had to twist her head at an uncomfortable angle to look up at the creature still waiting at the top of the cliff. Jason rotated her so she could look up without making him feel as if he'd got a crick in his own neck. "Before we do that, we need to get rid of Evil Gumby up there."  
  
"How are we going to do that?"  
  
She waved at him dismissively. "You're the one with the super powers. You tell me, Wonder-boy."  
  
"Would you *please* stop calling me that!!!" At this rate, this headache would never go away. "Anyhow, you saw what happened when I tried to use my 'super-powers!' I damn near gave myself an aneurysm!"  
  
She looked at him. "Feeling any better, now?"  
  
He scowled at her.  
  
"You know, your left eye is all red on one side," she said, tapping at the corner of her own eye. "It looks nasty."  
  
"Try imagining how it feels!" he said. Taiyouko wouldn't be winning any Miss Sensitivity contests in the near future, that was for sure.  
  
For a moment, he had the feeling that she was conducting some sort of intense internal debate. When she spoke again, she actually seemed a little embarrassed. "Is there any chance you could turn off whatever it is that's trying to make me think that I'm looking at someone other than you? Also, I don't know why, but that getup you're wearing gives me the willies."  
  
That was nothing compared to how *he* felt about it. He'd only transformed two other times since regaining his memories about the past. Each time he transformed back, he felt a burning desire to take a long, hot shower and scrub his skin raw. Unfortunately, that did nothing for the stain left behind in his soul.  
  
"I'd have to put us down, first. I couldn't do this when I'm myself."  
  
Taiyouko thought for a moment, looking first up at the creature, then down at the rocks below them. "It's not hurting you to keep us up here, is it?"  
  
He still had a pounding headache, but he'd had worse on mornings when he didn't have coffee. "It would be easier if you were twenty pounds lighter," he snapped.  
  
"*That* was uncalled for," she stated. "Now stop being snippy and mojo me up a nice sharp rock about this big," she said, indicating something about the size of a softball.  
  
At once, a chunk of rock floated up to within Taiyouko's reach.  
  
"Is there anything *else* I can do for you?" he asked sweetly.  
  
"Take us up to about two feet below the edge of the cliff." She looked up at the golem, and didn't even blink when they started moving upwards.  
  
"You know," he said, "you seem to be taking this all just a little *too* well. You know, not freaking out, not asking a lot of questions, and so on. This isn't, like, normal in your job or anything, right?"  
  
"Never seen anything like it," she admitted. "Slow us down a bit. I don't want that thing guessing what we're up to. Believe me, I do have *plenty* of questions, but those can wait until we get back to my apartment." She glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "You're not off the hook yet, Wonder-boy."  
  
"Oh, goody..."  
  
"Then, after you've answered all my questions to *my* satisfaction and gone on your merry way, I'll put on a couple of Beatles albums, pour myself a glass of Chardonnay, and have a nice, quiet nervous breakdown in the comfort of my own home. Does that make you feel any better?"  
  
"Not really." He wondered what tack her questions would take. Oddly enough, even though he dreaded rehashing everything with this unpleasant little woman, he felt a strange sense of relief as well. He'd hated going to confession back in his church-going days, but he often felt better afterwards.  
  
They continued to rise slowly upwards. Jason hoped this wouldn't take too much longer.  
  
"Stop here," she ordered.  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Anything you say, ma'am." He knew he was being cranky. It felt *good* to be cranky and rude and nasty. He'd nearly died. His head hurt. He was tired. Taiyouko had just taken him on a forced march through one of the rougher sections of Memory Lane. Being cranky kept him alert and focused, when all he really wanted to do was curl up in a little ball of misery and self-pity.  
  
That part could wait until he got back home and into bed.  
  
The creature leaned forward, and started to reach down to pick up another missile  
  
"Let's see if this works." She hurled the rock with more force than he would have expected, and it clipped the creature right on its triangular mark.  
  
The creature didn't fall into dust like the others, but it froze in place. Half of the mark had been obliterated by Taiyouko's rock.  
  
"Well, that should keep it from going after anyone else," Taiyouko said smugly.  
  
"Do you want another rock?"  
  
"Nah. This actually works out for the best. I want to come back here--with more ammo--and get a better look at this thing. I also want to get some samples of the others to take back to the lab."  
  
"They're not going to be able to do much about magic," Jason pointed out.  
  
"True, but Watanabe could probably tell me what these things are made out of. She may even be able to tell me where they were made. Wait--don't take us up," she said as Jason began to lift them again. "Take us back down and we'll find another way back to the car. Whoever sicced these ugly-buglies on us might still be up there."  
  
Jason agreed gratefully, and transformed back to himself the instant they touched ground.  
  
  
  
12:37 p.m.  
  
Kakos looked up from the sports section and peered out through the trees. The shouting and shooting had stopped, and everything was quiet. He wondered if someone from the nursing home would go outside to check, or would call the police about the sound of gunfire. That lady cop's gun had taken care of four golems rather nicely. Kakos made a note of that. The golems had been proofed against any magical attacks those two might have had, but the woman hadn't used magic, had she?  
  
He wondered if putting a Kevlar plate in front of the golems' markings would interfere with the magic that animated them. He'd have to ask Herself when he got back.  
  
Kakos picked up his backpack, and rummaged until he found his cell phone. His fingers were too thick and stubby to punch the number keys, but the only buttons he ever needed were speed dial and 'send'.  
  
"'Ullo? Yeah--'s me," he said. "The two we were expectin' showed up right enough... No, I don't know fer sure. 'S why I'm callin'. I'm about ta go out an' check... Lissen, ya still got them phones tapped? Did they call the police... yer kiddin' right?"  
  
Kakos's already broad mouth spread even wider into a jagged-toothed grin.  
  
"'Oliday. Right... Well if that ain't precious... Tell 'Erself I'm gonna do a bit of recce and make sure that the targets went splat as per directions."  
  
As he turned off the phone, he grinned a grin that just about split his head in half--literally.  
  
The idiots in the nursing home *had* called the police, but only to report that juvenile delinquents had been setting off firecrackers in celebration of some holiday or another. That meant he should be able to wander out into the garden with no trouble at all.  
  
Holiday, eh? That meant there could very well be a whole bunch of plump and innocent little kiddie-winks wandering around all alone and unsupervised tonight. Kakos put those thoughts aside for a moment. He had work to do.  
  
Calmly, he folded up his newspaper and put it in the pack. He pulled out a thick cigar--a nice fat Cuban--and sliced off the end on one of his teeth. The gold lighter he used to light it had been lifted from the remains of a prosperous businessman.  
  
Smoking was a tricky pleasure, since the acid in his mouth ate away the tobacco almost as quickly as the flame. Still, he had developed a method of smoking a cigar that got him the most bang for his buck. Not that he ever paid for anything, of course.  
  
He checked the damage in the garden. Four of his five golems were piles of dirt. No problem there. People expected to find dirt in a garden. The broken statuary would be taken for the work of vandals. The iron bench was half-buried in the ground, so he pulled it out and put it back roughly where it had been before. Tipping over statuary was one thing, but the police might begin to wonder about vandals who could fling large pieces of cast iron like javelins.  
  
The remaining golem stood at attention at the edge of the cliff. Kakos chuckled and took another puff of good Cuban smoke. The stupid things usually just stopped where they were when their jobs were done.  
  
"Y'can stand down, now," he told it.  
  
The golem did not move.  
  
Kakos's eyes narrowed. Simple golems like this were incapable of ignoring their master's commands. He walked over and leaned out at a dangerous angle over the edge of the cliff so he could look at the golem's face. The mark had been partially erased.  
  
"Bugger."  
  
He then looked down, and cursed again as he saw only rocks, and not two piles of blood and broken bone. He'd heard the scream dopplering out as someone had gone over the cliff. He was sure of it. It certainly looked as if the golem had chased them at least this far.  
  
Somehow, against all probability, the targets had escaped.  
  
Kakos whistled and an entire squadon of mosquitoes buzzed out of the woods and gathered trustingly on his hand. They were rewarded with being smashed to a pulp and scraped into a styrofoam coffee cup.  
  
Kakos put a lid on the cup and carefully stashed it in his backpack.  
  
Herself would have to hear of this. She wouldn't be happy, but she'd rather know *now* than have these two crop up later when she didn't expect them. At least he could produce the blood samples his mosquitoes had brought him. There was a lot of old, powerful magic one could do with blood.  
  
He then reached out and unceremoniously wiped the rest of the golem's mark away. It instantly collapsed into dust.  
  
Kakos took a long pull on the last of his cigar and steeled himself for what was bound to be an unpleasant phone call. A few seconds later, he was on the line with headquarters. "'Ullo? Me again... Lissen, I needs ta talk to 'Erself. We got ourselves a bit of a problem 'ere..."  
  
# # #  
  
Well, one more installment of this chapter to go! Again, a big thanks to my wonderful beta-readers and to everyone who has taken the time to write a review. 


	11. Fallen Heroes Part II

Empire of the Sun by Sophia Prester  
  
Disclaimer and Author's Notes: If you don't know where these are by now, you haven't been paying attention.  
  
  
  
Chapter Ten, cont.: Fallen Heroes, part II  
  
2:25 p.m.  
  
Michiru flopped down in the big armchair in the living room. What she really wanted to do was to go upstairs and go back into her dreams or consult her mirror again, but the others were there, and they'd be sure to ask questions if she went to bed in the middle of the afternoon.  
  
She wondered if the mirror had changed again. Last night it had gone back to its regular old self, but this morning it had changed to something completely different. It now looked like something that would have been more at home in a Venetian palazzo. The mirror frame was solid gold that had been carved and inlaid with enamel and precious stones to form a design of stylized waves. In among the waves was an entire menagerie of improbable water creatures. On the top of the mirror was a gold and silver mermaid, with a baroque pearl as the torso. The 'glass' in the mirror was a flawless oval of rock crystal. It was so heavy that she'd needed both hands to hold it up.  
  
The singer had once again shown itself in the changed mirror. She could just make out the impression of a face, as vague as shadows on the water. She would have thought it nothing more than a trick of the light, but this shadow face conveyed expression, and emotion. It had a voice.  
  
Its message was the same as it was the first time she had seen it, but the tone was even more desperate.  
  
*Hurry, Pelagia! There is little time!*  
  
Little time? Little time for what? Each time she slept, Michiru felt she drew a little closer to the answer, but she still fell short of the mark. It was as if she saw a flickering light in the darkness, but couldn't tell if it was a candle in a nearby window or a star in a far distant galaxy.  
  
She could no longer ignore the feeling that something drastic had to happen before she could truly contact the singer. She was afraid to think of what that something drastic might be.  
  
She was jarred from her reverie when she felt rather than saw Haruka leaning over her.  
  
"Hey, you." Haruka perched on the arm of Michiru's chair. She insinuated her arm behind Michiru's neck and rested a hand on her shoulder. Michiru leaned her head to the side and snuggled up against Haruka's warmth and softness. She heard the clink of ice cubes as Haruka rattled the glass she held in her free hand.  
  
"Setsuna made some not-powder lemonade. Want me to get you a glass?"  
  
Her stomach already felt unsettled. The last thing she wanted to do was throw a glass of acid down there to join the fun. "I'll get some apple juice later, if Hotaru hasn't killed it off."  
  
"Are you up to tagging along with Hotaru and the others tonight, or would you rather stay in?" Haruka asked. "It'll probably be seven kinds of crazy at the festival, you know. Crowds. Heat. Noise. Whining children."  
  
Michiru reached up and laid her hand over Haruka's. "Well, I can guess which option *you* prefer. Let's stay in--or do you think that Sailor Sun could be trouble?"  
  
Haruka thought about that for a moment, absently running her thumb along Michiru's collarbone as if commenting on how little flesh covered it these days. "If she's trouble, I don't think it would be intentionally. I don't think *she's* dangerous, but I don't like that she's come from out of nowhere saying that there's someone who wants to stop Crystal Tokyo from coming about. How does she know that? I don't know what to think about her claim that she doesn't have any other identity."  
  
"I know what you mean." Michiru rolled her shoulder, and Haruka's hand obligingly moved to a less accusing position. "I'd say she was lying, except her memory and concentration don't seem good enough for her to be able to pull off a deception like that. I wouldn't be surprised if someone was playing tricks with her memory. What if she's being manipulated and doesn't even know it?"  
  
She felt cold air and a sudden emptiness next to her. Haruka had paced across the room and was staring out the window at the back garden.  
  
Michiru got up and walked towards her. Haruka looked over her shoulder and smiled weakly.  
  
"I--I'm sorry," Haruka said. "When you said that someone might be messing with...people's minds I...well, it scares me, that's all."  
  
"You think that if someone wiped her mind they also managed to...damage her?" Michiru asked. She was unsurprised at Haruka's curt nod. Each knew how the other thought. To an outsider, their conversations would probably seem full of odd blank spaces, cryptic allusions, and abrupt changes of topic, but they understood each other perfectly well.  
  
She knew damn well that it wasn't Sun that Haruka was thinking of.  
  
She rested her cheek against Haruka's back and wrapped her arms around her lover's waist. "I'm sure everything will be all right. Everything will work out all right in the end."  
  
She could feel the tension fade from Haruka's back and shoulders. Maybe Haruka had understood that she wasn't only talking about Sun. Still, Michiru decided that it would be best to steer things back to safer ground. She let go of Haruka and the two of them sat down together on the couch.  
  
"So, what do you think of our new Senshi? I saw you checking her out." She smirked. "Do you think she's cute?"  
  
"Oh, please." Haruka's grin showed no defensiveness. She seemed genuinely amused, at least until concern clouded her expression once more. "I just hope that mother of hers knows something about who's behind all of this. I also want to know what this has to do with the dreams that everyone's been having." Haruka paused and took a sip of her lemonade. "What have you been dreaming about lately?"  
  
Michiru flinched, then prayed Haruka hadn't noticed. "Nothing. Well, nothing out of the ordinary."  
  
Haruka waited for her to say something more.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't worry so much, Haruka."  
  
"I can't help it," Haruka whispered.  
  
Michiru knew that Haruka wasn't going to ask her what was wrong, not yet, anyway. She was being given one more chance to reach out to Haruka and tell her everything that was going on, about the deep ocean, about the song of the sea, and about the singer who was calling out to her.  
  
She was being offered a choice, but just as in that first dream of Triton Castle, the moment of her choosing slipped by almost without notice.  
  
*Hurry, Pelagia!*  
  
It was funny, she thought later, how many of life's important moments were never accompanied by fanfare or sudden bursts of insight.  
  
*There is little time!*  
  
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine. *I'm* fine." She leaned over and kissed Haruka, tasting the sharp bite of lemon juice on her lips. Setsuna never put in enough sugar. Michiru smiled and ran her fingers through Haruka's hair. "Believe me, there's nothing for you to worry about."  
  
She leaned in again to give Haruka a kiss that was guaranteed to take her mind off everything, but there was nothing there. Haruka had gotten up, claiming she needed to refresh her drink, but as Michiru watched her disappear into the kitchen, she realized that for the first time in a long time, she couldn't guess what Haruka was thinking.  
  
  
  
2:27 p.m.  
  
Mother read the note. The politely worded invitation was quite touching. Sailor Mercury had been very gentle in the way she acknowledged that Sun would have to be watched like a hawk. Even now, Mercury seemed to be the diplomat of the group. How much had the others changed, if at all?  
  
It also seemed that Saturn was an active part of the team, along with Pluto. If only Sun had known enough to ask the right questions and remember the answers! It sounded as if Pluto had been reborn along with the others, but that made no sense. The Gates of Time should not have been affected by the Glaive, and even without her Senshi abilities, Pluto should have been immune to the ravages of time.  
  
Mother frowned and studied the note as if it would yield some clue to her dilemma. She had heard rumors and read news reports that there were other Senshi than the ones she'd expected to find surrounding the Princess, but it was still quite a shock to learn that Saturn and Pluto had been reborn alongside Neptune and Uranus.  
  
The talisman-bearers. The Glaive-bearer. Their presence was not a welcome surprise. The girls themselves were no doubt nice, but the fact that the Glaive and the talismans had come forward into this time was bothersome. In the wrong hands, they could prove to be...inconvenient.  
  
Sun was shifting from foot to foot, waiting for some sort of answer. The way her anticipation was fired up, Mother halfway expected to see her start dancing in place.  
  
"Can I go?" she asked for the tenth time.  
  
"Perhaps," Mother said. "I still need to think it over for a while."  
  
The Senshi were naturally curious about Sun's identity. Mercury had asked point-blank if it was all right if Sun revealed who she was. If not, Mercury wrote, they would be able to disguise Sun for the evening.  
  
"Please?" Sun whined. "I promise I'll be good. Pleeease?"  
  
"I'll let you know when I've made up my mind," Mother said, just firmly enough to let Sun know that she was serious, but not so much that she sent the girl spiraling into another bout of the sulks.  
  
Mother read through the note a few more times, noticing the subtlety of the wording. Mercury implied that they would be able to use some magic or glamour in order to disguise Sun, but she had been vague as to exactly how this would be accomplished. It was possible that the reincarnations of Serenity's Mau advisors had access to their people's disguise charms. Normally this would be no problem, but Mother was reluctant to let any outside magic be used on Sun. Things were unstable enough as they were. A simple costume change should suffice.  
  
"They were all really nice but Sailor Uranus was all grumpy and Sailor Mars is kinda scary," Sun babbled. "Sailor Saturn said she'd let me watch some of her cartoons..."  
  
Mother did a slight double-take. The idea of the Glaive-bearer watching cartoons was a bit much for even *her* mind to take in. Well, she told herself, the world *had* changed quite a bit since her day.  
  
"...lots that I've never seen. The girl who wears her hair like the Princess is also really nice and said she'd bring me some magazines."  
  
"That's nice, dear."  
  
"And the Princess's boyfriend gave me a present."  
  
"Princess Serenity has a boyfriend?" Mother asked, as casually as she could. "What was he like?"  
  
Sun shrugged. "The crystal didn't say anything about him," she said, as if this made him completely unimportant other than as a source of presents. She circled her hands and held them over her eyes, mimicking goggles. "He wore a mask, and he had fancy clothes like Mister Seven in those movies Uncle Misha watches that you told me I wasn't allowed to watch."  
  
Mister...? Oh, yes. James Bond. She would never understand why Misha liked those silly movies so much. He'd forgotten more about espionage than most people learned in a lifetime. "What did he give you, dear?"  
  
"He gave me a flower! It's red and it's really, really pretty!" She took off running. "I'll show you!"  
  
Mother laughed as she watched her charge run off into the house. No matter how pretty the flower was when she'd received it, by now it was very likely nothing but a pulpy mess. Sun didn't do well with fragile things.  
  
So, should she let the girl go out tonight? If this era's Mercury was anything like her past self, she was trustworthy, so that was no problem. It was the presence of the other Senshi who would be part of the trip that bothered her. Despite her love of cartoons, Saturn was a very real danger, and this 'Chibi Moon' was a completely unknown quantity. Still, Sun would have to start working alongside the other Senshi if this world had a hope of surviving.  
  
Maybe it would be best if their relationship had a chance to start somewhere other than a battle.  
  
She heard Sun pelting through the house, and Marfa shouting something about 'no running inside.'  
  
Anything Mother might have said was forgotten when she saw the perfect red of the rose in Sun's hand.  
  
Years, decades, and centuries disappeared in the blink of an eye.  
  
Sun handed over the rose, and Mother took it, remembering a time when she took an identical flower from a much smaller hand. Even as Sun urged her to smell the rose--it smelled *so* pretty! You have to smell it!--Mother lifted the rose up to her face.  
  
The scent that washed over her was spicy-sweet and intoxicating. It made her want to dive into the flower, to swim in it, or maybe to drink or devour it. If the sight of the rose had brought back memories, the smell was nearly enough to send her back through time into the memories themselves.  
  
Why this? Why now? The princess's boyfriend...  
  
She was surprised at the thought that crossed her mind. 'It's not fair!' Such a childish, petty thing to think. Still, fair or not, this rose changed things. She twirled it slowly by its stem, noticing something odd as she did so.  
  
"There's blood on the thorns. Whose is it?" Her voice sounded distant and hollow, even to herself.  
  
Sun ducked her head in shame. "I grabbed it and it cut his hand," she mumbled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."  
  
"I'm sure it's all right." Mother touched a finger to one of the thorns, feeling its sharpness but being careful not to shed any of her own blood. Did she dare use the blood? Was it worth the risk?  
  
She turned the flower around and around, studying it as if she had never seen one of its like before. Using the blood could be dangerous, but maybe she could put the flower itself to good use. The police were looking into the nursing home, weren't they? She could probably help them with their inquiries, and give them a nudge in the right direction.  
  
Something had to be done, and soon, or the Moon Kingdom would not be reborn as it should be, flawless and eternal.  
  
Things were happening so quickly, and at the absolute worst possible time. First there was the attack at the nursing home, and then there was the rose- -something had to be done before it all spiraled out of control.  
  
In her heart, she knew what she needed to do. It was something she had been meaning to do for some time, but...  
  
Why couldn't someone else have to make all of the hard decisions for a change? Anger rose up from within, urging her to grab this new princess by the shoulders and *make* her understand and appreciate everything that had been done for her sake and her kingdom's sake.  
  
No. It could never be. Sacrifices had been made and still had to be made. That's the way it was, and demands for gratitude had no place in the work to be done.  
  
Mother brushed the silk-soft rose petals along her cheek, as if they could kiss away the hurt and heartache. "I--I'm supposed to go visit Grandfather this evening." She would not cry. Not in front of Sun. The girl would get upset, and she couldn't deal with that on top of everything else. "There...I don't see why you can't go out with your new friends tonight."  
  
She would have said more, but it could wait. Sun was running and jumping around the garden, whooping and giggling in excitement. Anything Mother said would be ignored or forgotten out of hand.  
  
It was all right, though. Mother didn't feel much like talking. Her eyes may have been focused on the flower in her hands, but she was seeing something else altogether.  
  
The past was over and done, so why did it still have the power to hurt?  
  
  
  
2:33 p.m.  
  
Jason showed up a half-hour later than he said he would. Taiyouko watched from her balcony as he walked down the street towards her building. His hands were jammed into his jeans pockets and his upper body was pitched forward as if he were walking into a gale.  
  
"So, do you think he's anything like us?" she said to the lurker. "What are the odds that we're all going to end up at the funny farm together?"  
  
The lurker 'said' nothing. It merely shifted and growled like an ill- tempered dog being woken from a nap. Evidently, the jury was still out when it came to Wright. It all depended on how much of the truth he was willing to tell them. Until then, it was going to keep a close eye on him.  
  
"That's probably a wise idea," she told it. "Discretion, valor, better part, and all that." If she had a lit cigarette handy, she would have taken a nice long drag on it.  
  
Taiyouko watched until Jason vanished from her line of sight. Then, she sighed and went back inside to wait for the knock at the door. She had a feeling this was going to be a *long* afternoon.  
  
When he arrived, she wordlessly invited him inside. He removed his shoes and she could see his eyes flicker back and forth as he took in and evaluated his surroundings. It was something that all detectives did, but it was unnerving to have that behavior turned upon oneself. Her place was clean, but it was hardly tidy. Half-finished projects were piled on the table and against the walls in shopping bags and cheap baskets. A tottery stack of books and magazines on the floor marked her favorite spot on the sofa like a signpost.  
  
She returned the attention, overtly studying him to see what he might carelessly reveal.  
  
She immediately noticed the abrasions along his collarbone and all down his arms. It was impossible *not* to notice them, as the black of the shirt and white of his skin made them stand out in sharp, red relief. Jason had been wearing a tee shirt that morning while working on Keisuke's car, and she hadn't noticed any marks then. What on earth had he scrubbed himself with in the shower? Steel wool?  
  
His hair was still water-darkened from his shower, and the stray lock that normally flopped across his forehead had been slicked back, leaving his face unusually exposed, as if he *wanted* every flicker of emotion to be visible to anyone who cared to look.  
  
As for the expression on that face, she'd seen its like before. She'd seen it plenty of times during interrogations, on people who said that they were tired of seeing the stains on their hands or that they could no longer stand the nightmares. These were people who no longer cared about the consequences they would face--all they wanted was some measure of peace.  
  
The big thing, though, was the blood-spot in his left eye that kept drawing her attention like a magnet. It was one small, bloody proof that everything she'd seen that afternoon was real.  
  
The lurker did something she read as an 'I'm lurking right *here*' throat- clearing. She ignored it.  
  
After all, voices in the head could be blamed on a chemical imbalance or a childhood trauma or a blown synapse. No matter how real the lurker seemed, up until now she could dismiss it as some sort of imaginary friend. The things she'd seen today were just a little harder to rationalize out of existence.  
  
She waved Jason over to the sofa. He sat down and folded his hands on his lap, like a nervous little boy who was trying his best to remain quiet and respectful in church. She finally broke the silence.  
  
"Want something to drink?"  
  
Jason started as if she'd fired off a gun, and to make things even more surreal, she'd flinched in reaction to *his* reaction. It took her a second to collect herself enough to rattle off a list of options. She should have forced this conversation on the drive home, when she was still riding high on the adrenaline rush and still seriously pissed-off at Jason for throwing her off a *cliff* for goodness' sake!  
  
Now, even the lurker was starting to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Back in Kamakura, it had been riding strong in her mind, full of piss and vinegar and simmering fury. It had nearly been strong enough to override her control. The further they got from the city, the more it...faded, somehow. Lost its heat. It had crawled back into the rear of Taiyouko's mind, leaving her feeling oddly vulnerable, like she'd gone into a dicey situation without backup.  
  
"Wine sounds really good right about now," Jason said. Then he shook his head. "No, make that a juice, instead," he said with obvious reluctance.  
  
Taiyouko pondered the implications of that little exchange as she got his drink and poured herself a glass of wine. When she got back, they spent a few minutes in desultory small talk. He admired her embroidery and her quilts, and she soaked up the compliments. The good-little-boy pose faded after a while, and Jason sunk into a slouch. He was more relaxed. Good. Maybe he was ready to talk for real. Taiyouko took a deep breath and prepared to haul them back on track, but Jason beat her to it.  
  
"I spent the past hour thinking about everything--the Mahoney case, this business with Chiba, my missing friends, the horror-show at the nursing home. I'm pretty sure that it's all connected, and I feel like I'm *this* close to figuring out how," he said, holding up one hand, thumb and index finger millimeters apart. "It's all part of one long, crazy story. Problem is, I'm not really sure how to start."  
  
"The beginning's usually a good point," Taiyouko suggested. She'd felt a visceral thrill the instant he said it was all connected. Something he knew- -something he was keeping hidden--was the key to the mystery about Chiba and also to the stranger in her own mind. She also suspected that Jason badly needed to tell this story to somebody. Anybody. The raw, angry scrapes on his arms told her as much.  
  
He laughed and shook his head. "That depends on what you call the beginning. That's what I can't figure out." Jason looked up at her and she could see the anguish and confusion in those clear blue eyes. "Sometimes, I'm not even sure I can trust what I remember."  
  
He sat silently for a few moments. Taiyouko waited. She'd interrogated enough people in her lifetime to know when to push and when not to.  
  
"I'll start with Mahoney," he said abruptly. "It's not really the beginning, but it's when everything started to change. It was the...the, um, thing that gets everything started but isn't a part of it..."  
  
"Catalyst?" After just a week, she was filling in the gaps in his technical vocabulary on autopilot.  
  
"Yeah. Back in late ninety-six, I was transferred over to Homicide. The higher-ups thought my undercover work in Narcotics gave me some inside knowledge that would help with the Mahoney case..."  
  
The story seemed simple enough so far. Luther Mahoney was responsible for much of the drug traffic and associated mayhem in Baltimore. He didn't merely kill other drug dealers. He had also been known to go after ordinary citizens who were simply trying to keep their corners drug-free. From the way Jason described things, their attempts to haul Mahoney in were more like skirmishes in an ongoing guerrilla war than an organized police operation.  
  
"Here's the Mahoney story as it tends to get told around the station. Mike-- that's Detective Kellerman--had just been cleared on a corruption charge from back when he was on the arson squad. It all boiled down to a bunch of political garbage, and there was some less-than-nice coverage of the case in 'The Sun.' He was under a lot of pressure. His first case off suspension was a murder that we all *knew* had been committed by Mahoney or his goons."  
  
A shopkeeper who had only wanted to keep his corner drug-free had chased some of Mahoney's drug dealers away from his storefront. Thanks to his sense of civic responsibility, the shopkeeper wound up dead, and Mahoney's reputation was enough to silence any possible witnesses to the shooting.  
  
As Jason rambled on a tangent about a case involving Kellerman's idiot brothers and Babe Ruth's baseball uniform, Taiyouko's sports-phobic mind drew her back to the photo in Kellerman's file. Red-haired, fresh-faced, and looking for all the world like the stereotypical American frat-boy. His record gave her the kind of between-the-lines information that suggested this man was a ticking time-bomb. The only question was that of how many people he'd take with him when he finally blew.  
  
"I hadn't been with Homicide very long--maybe about five, six months in all since I'd been brought over from Narcotics for the Mahoney investigations. We finally got ourselves a kind of break in April of ninety-seven, when one of Mahoney's couriers was found dead in a hotel room. He'd swallowed *seventy-two* condoms full of heroin."  
  
"Um..." Taiyouko's stomach did a little dip-n-roll.  
  
Jason shrugged. "It's a common--if stupid and really gross--method of smuggling. The problem is, if one of the things bursts, it's instant overdose time and a write-up in the Stupid Criminals Hall of Fame. Well, it wasn't hard to trace this glowing light of entrepeneurship and community development back to Mahoney. Gee--Al Giardello, our commander--decided this was a golden opportunity to catch Mahoney red-handed. The idea was that we'd complete the delivery, but with one of our own guys as courier. Lewis, Kellerman, and I would work the case. We set up the drop."  
  
"You used the actual heroin?" They couldn't have been *that* stupid, could they?  
  
He shook his head. "Baking soda. When Mahoney found out, he *not* exactly happy. He blamed one of his lieutenants for taking the money meant for the genuine shipment, and shot the guy." Jason's face spasmed in pain. "What we weren't...what I wasn't expecting is that an innocent person wound up getting caught in the crossfire. We knew it was a risk, but that...it shouldn't have happened."  
  
"No, it shouldn't," Taiyouko said before she could stop herself. Instead of looking stricken, however, Jason looked almost relieved.  
  
"Lewis managed to catch up with Mahoney back at his condo. The idiot went in without backup, and there was a tussle. Mikey and I got there just as Mahoney grabbed Lewis's gun."  
  
As he spoke Jason absently reached out and picked up one of the needlepoint cushions from beside him. This one was in the shape of a chicken. He turned it over and over in his hands, and occasionally ran his hand over the stitches as if stroking a cat. When he spoke again, it sounded as if his mind was somewhere very far away.  
  
"There was this study they did a while back. We had to hear about it during some mandatory workshop when I first made Detective. Normally, most of what we learned in those things was a load of bull, but this one grabbed my attention."  
  
The change of subject knocked her off her stride for a moment, but Taiyouko nodded for him to continue. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she wasn't going to try to steer him back on track. He wanted to talk. He would get to the good stuff eventually. Even the lurker seemed content to wait and listen.  
  
"There was a big controversy at the time about 'recovered memories.' People would go into therapy or get hypnotized, and all of a sudden they'd remember being abducted by aliens or details of past lives."  
  
Taiyouko's mouth twitched. "I think I remember that story from 'The X- Files.'"  
  
Jason didn't smile. "Anyhow, there was some doubt as to how real these recovered memories really were, so this group of researchers interviewed a bunch of kids. They asked each kid 'have you ever gotten your hand caught in a mousetrap?' Easy question, right? All of they kids said that no, they hadn't. The researchers wouldn't take no for an answer. 'Are you *sure* you've never gotten your hand caught in a mousetrap?' After a while, the kids stopped being so sure. A little while longer, and they were downright *insisting* that they had gotten their hand caught in a mousetrap, and volunteering all kinds of details about how it had happened, how much it hurt, what the mousetrap looked like, what it was like to go to the doctor to have the mousetrap removed, and so on. You follow?"  
  
Taiyouko nodded. She had seen far too many innocent people tearfully and sincerely confess to murders they could never have committed. These were cases in which interrogating officer was under pressure to get a confession, or was too stubborn to let go of his belief that the suspect was guilty. Before long, the suspect didn't know up from down and couldn't tell black from white if his life depended on it. "In other words, these children wound up believing what someone *wanted* them to believe. They were told a story so many times that it became true, to them, at least."  
  
Jason nodded, slowly, emphatically, his eyes closed. "Nobody wanted to believe that Mike could have shot Mahoney in cold blood. At least, Lewis and I didn't want to believe it. Mahoney was gone and never coming back, and that was the important thing. The cops are the good guys and the murderers and drug dealers are the bad guys, right? If a cop shoots a bad guy, you want to believe that there was a good reason for it. Even so, Internal Affairs got involved, so it could go on the record as a clean shoot. Of course, Lewis and I had to testify. I went over what happened in Mahoney's condo over and over again. Sometimes it was when the I.A. guys were questioning me. Sometimes it was just in my own head."  
  
He lifted one hand, mimicking a gun.  
  
"Sometimes I could see Mahoney's gun falling to the floor before Mike fired. Other times I remembered Mahoney yanking the gun up to fire at Mike. Sometimes Mahoney was aiming at me, or Lewis."  
  
The 'gun' pointed at her, at the floor, and then at last at Jason's own temple.  
  
"I know you don't trust me, and you haven't trusted me for a while, now. Can't say I blame you."  
  
Oh, was it that obvious, Wonder-boy? Requesting his file had probably given it away. "So what you're telling me is that the shooting *could* have been self defense?"  
  
The flash of anger in his eyes startled her. "If it *had* been self defense, do you think I'd be second-guessing myself to this day?" he snapped. "Do you think I'd be trying to remember if the safety on Lewis's gun was on or off? Do you think I'd be believing five or six completely contradictory things at once? Or maybe I just needed a decent excuse to start working through the Dummies Guide to Self-Destruction. Yeah...that's it."  
  
The anger flashed and faded, and he slumped forward, hands dangling loosely between his knees. "Things had been going so well up until then! I'd been climbing the ladder the honest way. I was one of the youngest guys in department history to make detective, and getting to work Homicide was like Christmas and my birthday and New Year's all wrapped into one. I had it *made*. Then, Mike shot Mahoney, and it all went to hell. I wanted to be happy with the way things had gone down. I wanted to be happy with the medical examiner's report and not thinking about the fact that she and Kellerman were sleeping together. We were the *good* guys. I wanted to believe that we'd done the right thing, and so did everyone else."  
  
"But it doesn't work that way," Taiyouko said, echoing her words from earlier that day. "The three of you were supposed to be acting like policemen, not judges and executioners."  
  
The anguish in his voice nearly took her breath away. "But the judges weren't doing anything! Any witnesses we could find were scared to death to testify!" He looked back down at the carpet. "I know...it's no excuse. I know exactly how and why it's wrong that things happened the way they did. I wanted to believe that it was a clean shoot. I kept on racking my brain trying to find a memory of the incident that I liked--that I could live with. The problem there was that I never settled on any one thing. All I could really remember was Mahoney falling to the ground and Mikey telling him that he had the right to remain silent."  
  
No kidding, Taiyouko thought. A corpse could hardly be anything but silent.  
  
He laughed nervously. "What really creeped me out was that when I was tired, or when I'd been thinking too much, I started to remember some *other* stuff. Stuff that seemed like it was out of some fantasy movie or something."  
  
Yes. She could understand that. That vision she had of that burning Taj Mahal type place certainly seemed like something out of a fairy tale or a shoujo manga. She said nothing of this to Jason. He was talking, and didn't seem eager to stop. She could give him a guided tour of her own personal stretch of Psychotic Lane once he was done.  
  
"Some of it was stuff from games my brother Jake and I used to play when we were kids. We had these elaborate 'pretends' that were like one part King Arthur and one part Star Wars. I was starting to remember those games like they'd really happened." He smiled, but it faded to a look of disgust. "Jake knew something was wrong. He knew *me*, after all, but he didn't push. He just kept an eye on me, made sure I knew he'd be around if I needed him. Just having him there made me feel like I wasn't going entirely crazy, but it also made me think too much. In some ways it was easier when he wasn't around." He stopped and blinked rapidly for a moment. "I kept him away. I kept him away so I could keep myself from thinking too much. Going on a bender did a good job of numbing the brain. So did one-night stands. I became more careless about using my gift..."  
  
"Gift?"  
  
He tossed the needlepoint chicken up into the air. It hung up by the ceiling for a second or two, then dropped back into his lap.  
  
"Ah." This was something else she wanted to know more about. If she asked him about it now, though, he might lose the will to tell the rest of the story. It sounded as if he could grind to a stop at any minute.  
  
"Anyway, things were bad, but Jake kept me believing that they'd get better. I pushed him away, but he kept coming back. He told me that he'd always..." He paused and his eyes were clenched shut in pain. "He promised that he'd always be there when I needed him," he whispered. "You shouldn't promise things like that."  
  
To her own surprise, Taiyouko found herself reaching over and giving Jason's shoulder a gentle squeeze. She hoped he found it reassuring. She wanted to tell him that people weren't supposed to promise things like that, especially people who went into burning buildings for a living, but that wasn't what Jason needed to hear.  
  
"I heard about what happened to your brother. I found out about it when I got your file," she said gently. Jason was on a knife's edge. She saw the horror and sorrow in his face and she knew his imaginings had twisted into his memories and were making him see the inside of that burning building, even though he hadn't been there. The idea that he might collapse into a shuddering heap right there in her apartment scared her silly. "Unless there's something there you think I need to know, you don't have to go over the story for me."  
  
He sagged forward in relief, and even gave her a wobbly smile. "Thanks. This is rough enough as it is, but you need to know about that if the rest of this is going to make any sense at all. Jake knew that something wasn't right with the shooting, but he never pushed me on it. Thing is, I knew he was waiting for me to talk to him about it." Now he was hugging the chicken pillow to his chest, squeezing it all out of shape. "What's funny is that I was afraid to talk to him because I didn't want him to tell me that it was all okay. I didn't want that. I just wanted someone to tell me how to *make* it all right again..."  
  
Taiyouko held her breath, but fortunately Jason was able to pull himself together enough to keep talking.  
  
"Anyhow, Jake just kept on being there for me, and things did start to seem better. As long as I didn't pick at them, the memories didn't bother me. They just stayed nice and quiet."  
  
"And if you *did* start to pick at them?" She'd known him for less than a week, but she could picture him returning to those memories time and time again.  
  
His smile held no humor. "I already told you about my 'coping mechanisms.'"  
  
He was practically daring her to comment on that. It was almost as if he wanted her to lay into him the way she did back in Kamakura.  
  
"I'm getting the feeling that there's more to this Mahoney story-- that you haven't quite gotten to the end, yet." She decided to take a calculated risk. "The person who sent me your information--and she's *not* with your squad and not even in the same state, so don't even bother asking who it is--said that you wound up in the hospital over the Mahoney case."  
  
She did not mention the three dead policemen Anita had told her about.  
  
He took a deep breath. "The quiet didn't last long. Georgia Rae Mahoney-- Luther's sister-got into the vengeance game with a, um, vengeance. She got to Mikey and messed with his head big time by telling him that she had a surveillance tape from Luther's apartment. I don't know if she really did or not, but it didn't matter. She would have gone after us either way. That January, not long after Jake died, she brought a wrongful death suit against the department, and named me, Lewis, Mikey, and a bunch of other people in the suit as well. It didn't help that Judge Gibbons--the guy who had the case--was pretty squarely in Georgia Rae's pocket. Everyone knew it but no one could prove it."  
  
She could feel the lurker weighing Jason's words. How did justice play into this? From beginning to end, the whole thing stunk to high heaven. Jason had two lives on his conscience, not including the three dead cops. Mahoney may have been evil, but he was an organizational genius. His death had left an opening in the Baltimore drug trade, and the scramble to take advantage of this caused more chaos than Luther ever had done in life. Anita had told her that several of Mahoney's men were murdered in early ninety-eight as other local 'businessmen' tried to solidify their bases of operations.  
  
In a purely technical sense, Jason had been absolved of any wrong. He'd said that she hadn't told him anything he didn't already know. That much seemed true. She could also tell that he had far more on his conscience than the death of a drug dealer that few would miss.  
  
In his own twisted way, Jason was facing a life sentence greater than any penal system could inflict upon him from outside. As she and the lurker both mulled that over, she also tried to pay attention to what he was saying. The story started going from bad to worse to seriously weird. She was having a hard time holding back her comments.  
  
"You're saying that Lewis *punched* Georgia Rae? *Punched* her? No wonder he was suspended!"  
  
Then...  
  
"This is where you called Colonel Barnfather an asshole, correct?"  
  
Then...  
  
"Yes, I think I would have decked Kellerman were I in your shoes, not that I would have let things get that far in the first place."  
  
Even though he'd only been given the proverbial 'slap on the wrist' for striking a fellow officer, Jason more or less decided to place himself on suspension and take a sabbatical.  
  
"I wasn't sure at first what I was going to do. It was towards the end of January, so going fishing or hiking wasn't really an option. I also didn't want to be alone--I had it together enough to know that would be a really stupid idea. Somehow or another I get it in my head that I've *got* to go to Japan. I'd heard of people 'hearing the call of the open road,' or getting 'wanderlust,' and I thought I knew what they meant, but I didn't. This wasn't just an idea, it was a need, like being so hungry or thirsty that you can't think of anything else. I think it took me less than four hours between getting the idea of going and actually getting the plane tickets and reserving a hotel room in Tokyo. I left Baltimore on January twenty-first, and even though the return ticket was for the following week, I honestly had no clue about when--or if--I'd be coming back."  
  
Taiyouko shook her head in disbelief. "You were mentioned by *name* in a criminal suit, and they just let you leave the country like that? What the hell were they thinking?"  
  
Jason blushed, but didn't look guilt-wracked in any way. "It wasn't a matter of *let*. It was more a matter of me not telling Gee that I was planning on putting the bulk of the planet between me and Baltimore. I *had* to get to Japan, and I knew damn well that if I said anything to anyone, I wouldn't even make it out of the metro area. Gee knew I needed some time to get my head on straight, and I left Josh's name as a contact in case anyone needed to reach me. My next-youngest brother," he added before Taiyouko could ask. Jason had told her about his obscenely large family on several occasions, but she had never bothered to keep the names straight.  
  
"Anyhow, here's how I remember it. Josh dropped me off at the airport, and I flew to Toronto to get the connecting flight. As soon as I got off the plane I called Josh to let him know I got there, and that I'd check in with him again in a day or two to let him know how to contact me. I had a couple of hours to kill before the flight to Narita..."  
  
"Let me guess. You went to the bar?"  
  
To her surprise, that earned her a grin. "Yeah, but more to have a place to sit and enjoy a beer while I read a book. What was odd was that ever since making the decision to leave the country, I actually felt *good* for a change. It was like...I don't know, like getting ready for my first year of college. It was exciting and scary and unbelievable, and all I knew was that things were really going to change somehow. I was going to go back to my childhood stomping grounds, and somehow everything was going to fall into place."  
  
He got this distant expression for a moment, yet seemed more put-together than he had all afternoon. "I was sitting there at my table, looking out at the tarmac and thinking about all the trouble Jake and I used to get in as kids, back in Yokohama, and then I remembered how all of a sudden it struck me that I was thinking about Jake and not becoming a sobbing wreck or flying into a rage. I was remembering, and even though it kinda hurt, it was a *good* kind of remembering, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Um, when people tell about their trips, they normally don't spend a lot of time talking about picking up a connecting flight, not unless something odd happens. I take it something odd happened?" she asked, not letting on what little she already knew. When she'd gone to look at immigration and passport control records for that day, there was no record of a Jason Wright leaving or entering Toronto, or arriving in Tokyo. It was almost as strange as his British friend's apparently one-way trip to Tokyo at around the same time. Two fudged travel records, one kidnapping/assault case that had been peremptorily closed, and a missing-persons case that had never been officially investigated.  
  
Yes, said the lurker. Just as there was once a murder case that was closed with no explanation and a boy who went missing from the system for fourteen years. Sound familiar?  
  
Taiyouko tried to ignore the horde of icy-footed ants that had started a conga line up and down her spine.  
  
"Well, I met this guy in the bar who happened to be going on the same flight I was. I hadn't thought I was up to socializing, but somehow we got talking and we really hit it off...and get your mind *out* of the gutter!" he snapped. Taiyouko tried to look innocent, but wasn't sure it was working.  
  
"As I said, I met this guy, and we started talking, and it turns out that *he* had the same urge to drop everything and go to Tokyo. Now for me, it kind of made sense. I'd grown up there and had happy memories of the place. My life sucked and my career looked like it was about to start circling the drain. Now, Michel, on the other hand...things seemed to be going rosy for him, from what he was saying."  
  
Michel. That was the name Jason had said when he'd seen the mud things, like there was some connection there. "Did he say why he was heading out here?"  
  
Something like a shadow flickered across Jason's face, and he slumped forward again, as if protecting himself. "Y-yeah. He did."  
  
Well, out with it! Taiyouko wanted to yell. The boy'd opened way up for a moment, but now he was drawing near this big, explosive thing. She waited, however, and Jason started talking again after a minute or two.  
  
"I think it's easiest to tell this if I can tell it in the order I *remember* it, which isn't the same as telling it in the order it *happened.*" He looked up, almost pleading. "Is that all right?"  
  
She waved him on. "It's your story."  
  
He told the rest of the story to the floor. "One minute, I was talking to this guy from Halifax, and the next moment, I was in a whole world of pain, lying in a hospital bed, complete with restraints. The transition was...kind of a shock, if you know what I mean. One part of me was going 'what the hell happened?' while the other was all frantic wondering what was going to happen *next*. I figured that whatever it is isn't all that nice."  
  
Taiyouko was literally on the edge of her seat, leaning forward to hear what happened next.  
  
What happened next was astoundingly anti-climactic.  
  
Jason's shock only increased when a motherly, efficient nurse bustled in, expressing genuine delight to see that he was awake and alert. She removed the restraints and brought him a glass of water. To make a long story short, he'd been found on the beach near Norfolk, unconscious and suffering from severe hypothermia and exposure. To make a weird story even weirder, his *mother* then tore into the room and hugged him so hard he was nearly asphyxiated. After two minutes of hugging him, crying, and thanking God that he was all right, she yelled at him for twenty minutes straight.  
  
"She was sick with worry, she told me. Oddly enough, she was okay with me going off to Japan, but she was furious that I hadn't called, and that I hadn't called when I'd gotten back. I tried to explain that I hadn't gotten back--in fact I hadn't even *left*. Well, sure, I'd gotten as far as Toronto, but Canada hardly even counts as a foreign country. I mean, it's *attached*."  
  
Finding out that he was now only two hours south of his home city had been a nasty shock. Find out how long he'd been gone was an even nastier one.  
  
"*Seven weeks* had gone by, and no one had heard a word from me. My sister Emma was--and still is--convinced that I was in rehab somewhere and that Mom and Josh were covering for me. Later on, Lewis tells me that he was convinced that Georgia Rae had had me killed or something, and that I was at the bottom of Loch Raven Reservoir or in some landfill somewhere. Even though he was suspended, he did some poking around to see if he could find out anything. Gee was of course royally pissed that I'd tried to leave the country, but in the end that decision helped me out."  
  
"So you didn't remember *anything* from those seven weeks? You just had a big hole in your memory?" To her, that sounded even worse than having an uninvited guest in her brain.  
  
"I honestly didn't." For some reason one corner of his mouth quirked up in a weak smile. "I even told Gee that he could have Frank Pembleton--the king of the interrogation room--question me, no holds barred, and I wouldn't be able to remember a thing. Given my whacked out behavior--slugging Kellerman, leaving the country, so on--they get me checked out by a psychiatrist."  
  
Taiyouko shifted and took another sip of her drink. She didn't like psychiatrists and she didn't like hospitals. Her mini-breakdown fourteen years ago had taught her that. The psychiatric doctors tried to tell her how she felt, or even worse, how she was *supposed* to feel. What she'd *felt* like was smashing a couple of psychiatrists over the head with a bed pan, but she knew that wouldn't be very productive.  
  
"The doc came up with a nice, neat answer that seemed to explain everything. I don't know what the doctors here would call it here, but basically, after everything that happened with Jake and the ongoing stress of the Mahoney case, my mind decided it was going to check out for a while and go on vacation."  
  
"I think I get what you're talking about." Fugue state. She'd encountered it before, on a case in which a teenage girl had seen her boyfriend killed by her own brother. For a while they feared that the brother had also killed the sister, but she turned up a few days later, way up north. The girl had somehow made her way from Tokyo to Sapporo with no memory of how she had gotten there, or what had triggered her flight. She'd gone to Sapporo because she'd gone there on a skiing trip with a favorite aunt, and had good memories of the place. The girl's mind couldn't deal with what she'd seen and the fact that she loved her boyfriend and *still* loved her brother, for some unfathomable reason. Her mind had suggested 'ski resort in Hokkaido' as a pleasant alternative to the grim reality.  
  
"Let me guess what happened next," she guessed. "You accept the diagnosis. It allows you to return to work and to your life," she said, almost adding 'or what's left of it' to that comment. "At the same time, that explanation either sounds *too* neat or something else causes you to doubt it. Am I right?"  
  
"Got it in one," he said, trying to sound light-hearted. "Still, this was one gift horse whose mouth I would have been happy to glue shut if I could."  
  
"Uh-huh. So, how long did this happy state of affairs last?"  
  
"Three whole weeks. I was back at work, on desk duty until the docs gave me the all clear." Once again, he started talking to the floor. "That's when the whole Mahoney thing blew sky-high again. Luther was dead, but Georgia Rae Mahoney was carrying on the family tradition. Georgia Ray also had a son, a fine, upstanding young citizen who went by the name of 'Junior Bunk'..."  
  
  
  
2:34 p.m.  
  
Setsuna wiped down the kitchen counter and tried to force herself not to notice the conversation in the other room. Even though she couldn't hear what was being said, she could tell that things were growing a little more tense.  
  
No surprise, there. They'd *all* been tense lately, and it wasn't just due to recent events, either. Setsuna tried to remember the last time someone in their little family *wasn't* upset, and she honestly couldn't think of anything after this past March. What had gone wrong?  
  
Maybe it wasn't any one thing. Maybe it was just a whole bunch of little things, adding up into one big load of stress.  
  
She looked at her watch, wishing her affinity with time was flexible enough to let her jump ahead eight or nine hours. It would be wonderful to be able to call the States and not have to worry about waking anybody up. Guilt over wishing such a thing ganged up with guilt over not calling her parents in over a week and threatened to bring in guilt over her occasional wish that she could put this senshi business behind her. All of this would add up to a raging headache if she wasn't careful.  
  
Of all the times for Abuela Rosario to be an invalid. Setsuna shook her head and poured herself a glass of lemonade. It wasn't as if her grandmother had *scheduled* this stroke, or she had penciled this latest Senshi crisis into her calendar. Still, she missed having family--non- Senshi family--in town. Mama and Father had been in San Diego for well over a year, now. It hardly seemed possible.  
  
If only this recent crisis didn't seem to involve her own memories! It would be lovely to bid everyone a fond 'see you later' and go to visit her family in California and Mexico. Normally, the cheek-pinching attention and the constant imprecations to "fill your plate, child! Eat! You're too thin-- you'll get sick if you aren't careful!" along with the attempts to set her up with a 'nice young man' drove her crazy within three days. Even so, it would be nice to be able to let her guard down for a while and let Mama and all the aunties spoil her rotten. Sometimes, being the token adult of the Senshi family could suck the energy right out of her. It would be good to be the baby again, if only for a little while.  
  
She took a sip of her drink and winced. Too sweet. She dumped the contents of her glass into the sink--ignoring the inner auntie that chided her for such wastefulness--and checked her watch. Sixteen hours difference meant it was, what? ten-thirty yesterday evening? Mama would undoubtedly be asleep by now, but Father might be up reading or grading student reports. Of course, if she did call, she'd probably get the usual two-ton subtle hints about how she could do her graduate studies at UCSD just as well as at Tokyo University. Even so...  
  
She picked up the phone only to hear the excited yammer of teenage voices. "Sorry, Hotaru-chan," she said, then hung up again.  
  
"Is she hogging the phone again?" Haruka grumbled.  
  
Setsuna nearly jumped out of her skin.  
  
"What's got you so wound up?" Haruka snapped. She yanked the refrigerator door open and took out the lemonade.  
  
"You startled me, that's all," Setsuna said with her normal calm. She watched in horrified fascination as Haruka added five spoonfuls of sugar to her drink.  
  
Haruka then stalked over to the phone and picked it up. "Oi! Hotaru! Setsuna needs to use the phone, so cut it short."  
  
The offended squawking from the phone was cut off as Haruka hung up.  
  
Setsuna sighed and picked up the phone. "I really *don't* need the phone, so make that a 'never mind,'" Setsuna said before Hotaru could utter a single word. She hung up quickly. "Haruka, that really wasn't necessary."  
  
"Hey! It sounded to me like you wanted to make a phone call. Besides, Hotaru needs to learn that spending hours on the phone--"  
  
"We have call waiting, and if it was a *real* emergency, we've got the communicators. Most of her calls are local, so we don't have to worry about her running up the bill. She's not spending *so* much time on the phone that her grades are suffering, so what's the harm?"  
  
Haruka raked her fingers through her hair, making it go all spiky along one side. "It's the principle of the thing," she said, not looking Setsuna in the eye, yet not quite willing to back down.  
  
Setsuna was very glad that she had learned to maintain a surface calm when deep in her gut she would prefer to be flinging crockery. "She's finally able to have a normal childhood. It's *normal* for a teenage girl to want to spend time on the phone with her friends."  
  
Haruka was clearly skeptical. "I didn't," she stated.  
  
There were so many potential retorts to that phrase, any one of which would hit their friendship like a tactical nuke. Neither she, nor Haruka, nor Michiru would have been considered anything like 'normal' in their teens. Setsuna was also reasonably sure that none of them had many close friends outside of their own, tiny circle. Even the 'girl' part of the equation was cast into doubt when it came to Haruka.  
  
"Hotaru's making up for lost time," Setsuna finally said. It was the least combative answer she could think of.  
  
Haruka muttered something under her breath and started to stalk out of the kitchen.  
  
"What was that?" Setsuna snapped as she grabbed her friend by the shoulder. Haruka spun around so quickly that Setsuna was forced to jump back.  
  
For one, panicked second, she honestly thought that Haruka was going to hit her, then Haruka was staring at her with the same horror that she must have had in her own eyes a half-second ago.  
  
"Don't even joke about manipulating time!" Setsuna snapped. To hell with self-control! She was up in Haruka's face, jabbing her in the sternum, Latin ideas of personal space shoving aside the Japanese in an instant. Haruka was backed up against the counter, stunned by what she was seeing and hearing. "The whole point of having a Sailor Pluto in the first place was so that time *can't* be manipulated! I *died* because I stopped time for an instant, no matter that the entire fucking universe would have gone up like that"--she snapped her fingers right in front of Haruka's eyes--"if I hadn't!"  
  
"You joke about it all the time," Haruka said, looking at her as she might a once friendly dog that had just tried to bite her.  
  
"Gallows humor," Setsuna said, embarrassed and somewhat deflated. She'd been thinking about hitting the fast-forward button just seconds before Haruka had come into the kitchen, so who was she to get angry? "I'm sorry. It's just that all of this..." she waved one hand in a circle, indicating everything from their family to their current crisis to the universe in general, "it's getting to me. I've spent a lot of time thinking about Sailor Pluto, and me, and my past life. It's a lot to think about."  
  
Haruka let out a chuckle. "No kidding." She smiled mischievously. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard you cuss before."  
  
Setsuna grinned. It *had* felt good to let fly. "The pressure valve blew. I guess I've been needing to yell at someone or something for a while, and you just happened to be in the right place at the right--or wrong--time."  
  
Something in what she said got Haruka to thinking. She leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, chin tucked into her chest. Setsuna waited.  
  
After a minute or two, Haruka cleared her throat. She kept her eyes focused on the floor as she spoke.  
  
"Setsuna... All of this stuff you're starting to remember... I know you'd tell us if it was important, right?"  
  
She looked up, and a desperation that she did not let into her voice was all too clear in her eyes.  
  
"I mean... If you're close to someone--really close, and if you know something important, you'd tell that person, right? You wouldn't just...keep it all to yourself and shut that other person out, not if it was really important, would you?"  
  
Oh no, not *this* again! Setsuna fought to keep her voice level and controlled. "Haruka, I said I'd tell you everything I remember about the Silver Millennium and before, even the things that may not be important. I'm still sorting through it, that's all."  
  
Haruka stared at her as if she'd just given a completely nonsensical answer, such as 'green,' or 'forty-two.'  
  
"Oh... That." Haruka shook her head, as if clearing the mental cobwebs. "Nah... I guess... I guess I'm not really worried about that. I'm sorry I got so bitchy with you the other day. It's just the principle of the thing, that's all," she said, echoing what she'd said about Hotaru. She looked down the hall towards the living room. "I probably shouldn't worry. I mean, it's a given that if someone's really important to you, you'd tell that person if something's wrong, right?"  
  
That must have been the third or fourth time that Haruka had begged for some sort of affirmation. Why or for what, Setsuna could not tell. Somehow, she found Haruka's childlike desperation for her to 'make it all better' endearing.  
  
"Haruka, I may be rather close-mouthed, but I'd never keep anything important from you. You can trust me on that," she said gently, and with genuine affection.  
  
Haruka just nodded brusquely and walked out of the kitchen, heading for the garage rather than the living room.  
  
"No problem. If anyone asks, I'm going out for a drive, okay?"  
  
Setsuna let out a breath that she didn't even know she'd been holding. She couldn't help feeling that she had just missed something vitally important in Haruka's questions.  
  
# # #  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks again to Ice Princess and Luna Hope for their help as beta readers.  
  
More of chapter ten coming soon, but I'll be internetless over the holidays, so I thought I'd post what I had. 


	12. Fallen Heroes Part III

Empire of the Sun  
by Sophia Prester  
Disclaimer and Author's Notes: If you don't know where these are by   
now, you haven't been paying attention.  
Brief note to readers: It's been a while since I last posted, so you   
may want to skim the last two parts of Chapter 10 to be able to put   
this section in context. I really, really am sorry about the delays   
in posting this, but my ration of 'free time' has been radically   
reduced this winter.  
Please leave reviews, send feedback, etc. Also, please be honest with   
me if there's anything that needs improvement. Feedback can be sent   
to Sophia_Prester@hellokitty.com. (Yes, you read that correctly.)  
Chapter Ten, concluded.: Fallen Heroes, part III  
3:42 p.m. July 7, 2001/1:45 p.m. May 1, 1998  
Hindsight was, as they say, always twenty-twenty. On occasion,   
it even came with color commentary. No matter how many times he   
replayed the events of that day, Jason always found some way he could   
have prevented what happened. If only he had been more alert, he   
could have called out a warning, or used his gift to keep the drawer   
from opening, or... There were any number of things he could have   
done differently if only he had been paying attention. If he had,   
maybe he would have noticed just how much Junior Bunk had changed.  
  
The first time Jason had encountered Junior Bunk was back in   
December of ninety-six, when the little punk had been hauled in for   
questioning in connection to the shooting of a dealer. Bunk's nerves   
were wound so tight, he looked like he was about to wet himself, and   
no wonder--he was the rabbity little sort who'd be eaten alive in   
prison. He was painfully eager to make a deal. To everyone's delight,   
Junior agreed to testify against his uncle under the condition that   
he could remain 'monogamous.' With Mahoney in prison, pending trial,   
Junior must have felt relatively safe in testifying.   
  
Unfortunately, Mahoney's reach was longer than anyone had   
thought. Even from prison, Mahoney was able to cow his nephew into   
silence. There was no testimony, and Mahoney went free--again--but it   
made little difference in the end. Five months later, Bunk was in   
prison, and Mahoney was dead. The good guys had won. Sort of.  
  
How stupid of them not to realize that prison was nothing.   
Mahoney's reach could extend from the grave itself.  
  
By the time May of ninety-eight rolled around, Jason's life was   
going pretty well for a change. It finally seemed like the whole mess   
was actually going to *end*. Judge 'Georgia-Rae-paid-for-my-yacht'   
Gibbons was under investigation for corruption by the FBI. It also   
came as no surprise that Georgia Rae's lawsuit against the police   
department was summarily dismissed.  
  
But then, Judge Gibbons was murdered. Stabbed to death. In   
broad daylight. Right outside the courthouse. It was a killing of an   
up-close and personal nature, and whoever did it didn't give a damn   
about being caught. It didn't take them long to find and bring in the   
killer: Georgia Rae's son and Luther's nephew--Junior Bunk.  
  
Considering that Gibbons had recently finagled Bunk's early   
release from prison, the whole situation had a delightfully ironic   
symmetry to it. Also nice was the fact that the case was nicely open-  
and-shut. Bunk did it, and Bunk was going away--for good. The legal   
system didn't look too kindly on judge-murderers, even when the judge   
in question was on the take. They hauled Bunk in, and that should   
have been that. End of story, right?  
  
Wrong.  
  
The Junior who'd emerged from prison was not the same one who'd   
gone in. The whimpering little mama's boy was now a stone-cold killer   
with hard, dead eyes. Bunk had picked up some toughness in prison,   
and Mama's little boy was primed for her to turn him into an   
instrument of her vengeance. For him, killing Gibbons was probably   
about as morally agonizing as swatting a bug. Pembleton and Bayliss   
worked him over in the box, hoping to get some more dirt on Georgia   
Rae, but Bunk proved that he could no longer be intimidated, not even   
by the Dynamic Duo. So, they hauled him out into the squad room and   
cuffed him to a bench until he could be hauled down to central   
booking.  
  
Jason's desk was less than twenty feet from where Bunk was   
sitting, but it didn't even occur to him to be on his guard. He was   
still on desk duty. Bunk was in cuffs. There were at least ten   
detectives and uniforms around. They were in the *squad room*, for   
crying out loud! It should have been the safest place in the world.  
  
At least, it would have been if Bunk hadn't seen a gun being   
put away in a nearby desk.   
  
It wasn't until much later that Jason found out exactly what   
had happened next.  
  
Bunk asked to call his lawyer. He had the right, so they   
couldn't exactly refuse the request. Someone freed one of Bunk's   
wrists so he could reach the phone on the desk next to him. The desk   
that just happened to have a loaded gun in the top drawer.  
  
Jason was leaning against his desk, perusing a menu from a new   
carry-out place when he heard the first shot. He looked up to see a   
uniformed officer crash to the ground.  
  
Seconds stretched out with horrible clarity as people dove for   
cover or reached for their weapons. Another shot, and Gharty fell   
back against the far wall, red blooming across the front of his shirt   
as he slid to the floor. Jason fumbled for his gun, cursing his   
slowness and instinctively turning to look for the shooter, praying   
he would see him in time to knock his aim aside with a twist of his   
mind, but...  
  
It felt like he'd been hit square in the chest with a   
sledgehammer. He stumbled back, getting tangled up with his own desk   
chair before toppling to the floor.  
  
His vision grayed out as he fought to stay awake. He was dimly   
aware of seeing another officer go down and of hearing another body   
tumble to the floor. A woman yelped in pain--oh God, Ballard had been   
hit--but it was drowned out by another volley of shots. Then,   
silence.   
  
It was only later that Falsone told him that Bunk had been   
gunned down by Gee, Bayliss, Lewis, and Kellerman.  
  
His chest hurt. He kept trying to draw a breath, but his lungs   
couldn't catch on anything. Things were moving, but there was no air   
coming in. Just a bubbling, whistling sound. He fought to remain   
awake, fought to breathe. His chest was on fire, but the rest of him   
was cold. It would be so much easier just to sleep...  
  
He was not even aware of when the paramedics started working on   
him. The last thing he remembered was a sudden silence, like the   
absence of a background noise he had hardly ever noticed before.  
  
His heart stopped.  
  
...  
  
...  
  
Sound returned, coming in like a rush of wind, and he snapped   
violently back into consciousness. His vision was blurry, but at   
least there was light, and he was standing on his own two feet. The   
light wasn't anything like the warm, peaceful glow that all those   
Discovery Channel specials said to expect--the famed 'go into the   
light' light. It was more like a cold, flickering fluorescent light.   
On the plus side, he didn't smell any sulfur or brimstone. What he   
*did* smell was an oddly familiar blend of burnt coffee, damp   
concrete, paper, air-freshener, and mildew.   
  
His vision cleared, and he looked up to see the not-quite-  
living-up-to-its-reputation light, and got the shock of his   
li...afterlife. It looked like a fluorescent light because it *was* a   
fluorescent light, just one of many set into the ceiling of...  
  
...the squad room?  
  
He'd never imagined that the afterlife would simply be showing   
up for work the next day. What was he supposed to do now? Clock in or   
something? Would someone show up and give him some instructions?  
  
He gradually became aware of a host of shadowy figures milling   
about the room. There were men, women, children, people of all races,   
shapes, and sizes. He couldn't quite get a good look at any of them,   
but he thought he recognized one or two of them, and he knew that   
they were others who had died, some of them a long time ago. He   
thought that one of them was the uniformed cop who'd fallen to Bunk's   
first bullet. Another looked like an old informant of his who'd been   
killed execution-style back in ninety-five. All of them had died at   
someone else's hand.  
  
All of a sudden, he *really* didn't want to look at the shadowy   
figures any more. He didn't want to recognize anyone else. Wasn't   
there somebody more solid hanging around? Someone who could tell him   
what was going on? He checked his hands. They seemed solid enough.   
There was no sign of a wound on his chest. He was wearing the blue   
shirt and gray tie he'd put on that morning, but something seemed   
off, as if he should have been wearing something else, something a   
little more formal. His dress uniform, maybe?  
  
Probably. After all, that's what you were *supposed* to wear to   
a cop funeral, he thought hysterically.  
  
His funeral. Somewhere out there, someone was probably writing   
up his death certificate. He ran a hand down his chest and stomach,   
suddenly queasy at the thought that even now, Dr. Scheiner might be   
cutting the Y-incision for his autopsy. Someone was probably breaking   
the news to his mom.   
  
Two sons in less than a year...oh, God, this was going to   
destroy her.   
  
He had to get back. Maybe he wasn't so much dead as...as in   
some sort of limbo or something. Maybe the doctors were still working   
on him. There had to be some way of turning back. There were too many   
things left unfinished. Too many regrets. It couldn't be over now,   
damn it!  
  
At the same time, what about all the murder victims he had   
seen? How many of them had left things unfinished, or unsaid? Why   
should he expect the rules to be any different for him?  
  
He forced himself to ignore these doubts and kept looking   
around, not sure what he was hoping to find. A lit 'EXIT' sign,   
maybe? The door to the hallway led only into a gray fog, and he   
wasn't quite ready to risk getting lost out there. The ghosties were   
either fading, or he was getting better at ignoring them. On a whim,   
he picked up the phone on Bayliss' desk. No dial tone. He tried all   
the different lines and rattled the switch a couple of times, but   
nothing happened. The other phones were just as helpful. Gee's office   
was dark--no help there, not that he'd really expected any.   
  
Jason wandered aimlessly around the squad room for a while,   
wondering what on earth was supposed to happen next. The white-board   
still stood where it always had, but instead of having victims listed   
under the detectives' names--black for solved cases, red for   
unsolved--the board was as white and unmarred as freshly fallen snow.   
There wasn't even a hint of dry-erase dust in the corners. It was as   
if the board had never even been used.  
  
Weird.  
  
He picked up one of the markers, half-tempted to write 'Kilroy   
was here' or something else equally stupid on the board, when he   
heard something from the break room--the sound of liquid sloshing   
into a styrofoam cup, and the familiar squeak of one of the old   
plastic chairs. Whatever made that noise was no ghost.  
  
Someone far more solid than the ghosts walked by the open door,   
and waved Jason over.  
  
"C'mon in," the man said in a rich, almost gravelly voice. "We   
just put another pot on. Have a cup while you're waiting."  
  
Jason blinked a couple of times and slowly walked towards the   
break room. The bald, pudgy man looked familiar, but he couldn't   
place him right away. The small mustache and egg-like head were   
unmistakeable, and Jason remembered seeing a picture of this man   
somewhere. He just couldn't place the name  
  
"Do I know you?" Jason asked. He stood just outside the door,   
not sure if it was safe to accept the invitation.   
  
"Nah, I was before your time," the man said. He started to hold   
out his right hand, then realized that there was a cup of coffee in   
it. He switched the cup to his other hand, then re-offered the   
handshake. "Steve Crosetti."  
  
Jason took Crosetti's hand, startled at the warm, calloused   
*solidity* of it. "You were Lewis's old partner..."  
  
Booze and prescription drugs had been found in his bloodstream.   
The body had been found in the river. Lewis was the only one who   
still believed that Crosetti's death wasn't a suicide.  
  
"Yeah. You must be Wright, right?" Crosetti said, smirking at   
his own joke. "We've been waiting for you. So how is old Meldrick   
doing these days?"  
  
"He's not here, so at least he's got that going for him," came   
another voice from within the break room. The accent was pure South   
Baltimore.   
  
Jason finally stepped into the break room. It didn't look any   
different. Dust-covered file boxes were still stacked up on top of   
the antiquated vending machines. The tables and the blue plastic   
chairs were the same ones he'd seen just that morning. The man who'd   
spoken was sitting at one of the break room tables, his hands wrapped   
around a styrofoam cup. He was a big, burly type, much like a high-  
school football star gone to seed. His black hair was mostly slicked   
back but bits of it kept escaping into cowlicks.   
  
"Beau Felton," the man said, smiling wryly. "I'd say it's nice   
to meet you, but under the circumstances..." He tilted his head to   
one side, inviting Jason to fill in the rest of the comment on his   
own.  
  
"Yeah," said Jason. Somehow, this was a lot harder to take than   
a room full of ghosties and an empty whiteboard. He'd never met   
Felton--alive, that is. He'd assisted a little bit with the   
investigation after Felton's undercover assignment with another   
department had gone sour in the worst possible way.  
  
"I'll get you a coffee, if you want," Crosetti offered again.  
  
"There isn't any beer, is there?" Jason asked. He needed   
something to calm him down rather than wind him up.  
  
Crosetti snorted with laughter. "Beer? Whaddya think this is?   
Heaven?" He rolled his eyes and looked at Felton. "New guy."  
  
"Have a seat," Felton said. He certainly looked a lot better   
than he had in the morgue. His face didn't look quite the way Jason   
imagined it would. "We can play some poker, if you like, once your   
friend over there is done with the cards."  
  
Felton nodded his head towards the table at the back of the   
break room. Jason turned to look, half afraid he might recognize this   
person as well. Gharty and Ballard had also been hit...  
  
Whoever was at the table was screened by an enormous house of   
cards. The house was still being built, with cards seemingly flying   
up of their own to add height and detail to the building.   
  
Most people would have been astounded by such a structure. It   
would have been better to call it a castle of cards, rather than a   
house. The main part of the structure was a tall, thin tower, with   
pairs of cards set end to end log cabin style, but somewhat angled,   
so that the whole thing formed a gentle upwards spiral. Elegantly   
cantilevered balconies jutted out from the tower at intervals that   
seemed random but that somehow contributed to an overall sense of   
balance. Two shorter towers flanked the larger one, and were   
connected to it by elaborate trestles.  
  
Jason's breath caught in his throat, and the room became bright   
and wavery. As soon as he saw the tower, he knew *exactly* who was   
sitting at the other side of that table, and this was not bad, no,   
not bad at all.  
  
"Jake?"  
  
His brother held up one finger, silencing him. "Aaaaal-most   
done," he said softly. One hand steadied the tower, quietly   
convincing it that the support it needed would be there shortly, and   
redirecting the stresses until he could slide that one last card into   
place. Then, he picked up the card and placed it so that it stood on   
one corner, with its opposite corner centered on a card above. Jake   
gently flicked the card so that it spun on its axis. It didn't add   
much to the appearance of the building, but Jason knew that the   
integrity of the entire structure rested on this one card.  
  
"Jake? Aren't you...didn't...there was a fire," he finished   
lamely. Of all the things to say. Out of all the things he was so   
*desperate* to say...  
  
Jake nodded. "Yeah. History keeps on repeating itself and all   
that jazz. Sucks, doesn't it?" His voice caught as he spoke. "So.   
Here we are."  
  
Jason nodded, and swallowed. "Yeah. Here we are."  
  
Crosetti and Felton were talking just a little more loudly than   
necessary, and Felton had angled his chair so that he wasn't looking   
straight at them. Jason was grateful for the small attempt to give   
them some privacy.   
  
"What now?" Jason asked, his own voice trembling. He sat down   
at Jake's table. Part of him wanted to crow with delight at finding   
his brother, while the rest of him was trying not to curl up in a   
ball and weep.  
  
"We'll get to that in a minute or two, Jase." As the card   
slowed, Jake gave it another flick to keep it spinning. "I need to   
take this thing apart, first. Your two buddies there were nice enough   
to let me borrow their cards."  
  
"Even in the afterlife, you're always building shit, Jake."  
  
Jake glared at him in mock indignation. "Like I'm supposed to   
sit here doing squat while you take your time farting around and   
checking out the scenery?"  
  
"*Some* people like to play poker when other people aren't   
hogging the cards," Crosetti warned. "You almost done with that   
thing?"  
  
For a moment, another image was superimposed over the cards. It   
was a castle, with three connected towers that Jason knew were   
supposed to symbolize a branching river. Intead of pasteboard, the   
original castle was constructed of delicate, irregular layers of a   
blue mica and quartz, arranged so that the intense light of the sun   
rippled and refracted through them. Anyone looking at the castle   
would have thought it was built out of cool, rushing water. He had   
seen this place somewhere, if only in his imagination.  
  
"I'm done," said Jake. "I was just killing time until Jase   
showed up, that's all." He stopped the spinning card, and pulled it   
out without disturbing any of the other cards around it. For a   
moment, the structure stood in a strangely active stillness. Then,   
the cards fluttered to the table without fanfare.  
  
"Hey, you'd better pick those up," Felton warned. "I'm not in   
the mood to play fifty-two pickup."  
  
"Ah, put a sock in it," said Jake. He swept the cards together.   
Jason noted with no little admiration that the cards had all fallen   
face down. Jake always thought of little details like that when he   
built stuff.  
  
Jake squared the deck and handed it back to Felton. "What about   
the card you yanked?" Felton asked.  
  
Jake flicked the card through the air. Felton grabbed for it   
and missed. "It's just a Joker," Jake said.  
  
"Hey, it's not a game unless there's wild cards," Crosetti   
said. "Wright, did you ever get yourself that cup of coffee?"  
  
Simply mentioning it made the odor of coffee seem even   
stronger. The coffee in the squad room wasn't exactly *good* coffee,   
but it was the way coffee was supposed to be at work--either a little   
too strong or a little too weak, always a little burnt tasting, and   
with the slightly oily feel it got from powdered creamer. You weren't   
supposed to enjoy it, but when you drank it, you knew you were giving   
the body its recommended daily allowance of caffeine.  
  
He was just starting to accept when Jake shook his head   
sharply.   
  
"Uh, I'll pass, thanks," Jason stammered. He turned back to   
Jake. "What the hell crawled up your butt?" he hissed.  
  
Then, he started to shake. He wrapped his arms across his   
chest, clutching at his own shoulders as if trying to keep himself   
from flying apart into a million pieces. It shouldn't be like this.   
He shouldn't just be taking Jake--taking *them*--for granted like   
this.  
  
"I'm just looking out for my brother, that's all," Jake said,   
as if nothing at all was wrong. "Sorry about the coffee, but there's   
rules here. Eating or drinking anything would be a really bad idea   
right now."  
  
Right. Pomegranate seeds and a time-share in hell and all that.   
Either there was something to be said for Greek myths, or his brain   
was dredging up nearly forgotten bits of trivia to build an elaborate   
near-death hallucination.  
  
Still, it was unimportant compared to what he and Jake were   
doing there. Before he could gather his wits together to ask another   
question, Jake spoke up with the answer.  
  
"Things got all screwed up this time around."  
  
Jason heard exactly what Jake *didn't* say: "*You* screwed up   
this time around."   
  
It was the same exact thing he didn't say during those last few   
months, as he had quietly and patiently pressed at Jason to talk   
about things. Jason had kept quiet, so afraid of losing his brother,   
only to lose him anyway.  
  
"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."  
  
Jake got up and went over to his brother. He crouched down by   
Jason's chair and put an arm (oh so real...) around his shoulders,   
gently rocking him and speaking to him softly in the mish-mosh of   
Japanese and English that was their own private childhood language.  
  
"It'll be okay, Jase. Shh. Everything's going to be just fine."  
  
"I--I messed up big time, didn't I?"  
  
For a moment Jake's arm tensed.   
  
"That's in the past," he said carefully. "Things should have   
been different this time around, but--"  
  
"I can't live with it any more," Jason whispered. "I swear, if   
I get out of this, I'll tell Gee everything I know about the Mahoney   
shooting. I *swear*."  
  
"This isn't about Mahoney!" Jake snapped. "Would you just shut   
up for a second?"  
  
Jason kept on speaking, everything he'd been wanting to say   
spilling out over his brother's attempt to quiet him. "I need to tell   
him how if Kellerman hadn't shot him, I would have--"  
  
Jake's eyes grew cold. "No! Thinking something is *not* the   
same as doing something! And don't go all altar boy on me and start   
quoting the Sermon on the Mount. You held back. Kellerman didn't.   
That's what's important. Temptation and obsession aren't the same   
thing, okay?" His face softened and he shook Jason by the shoulders.   
"This isn't about Mahoney, okay? That's all being wrapped up right   
now. It's out of your hands. It's about what happened in Japan."  
  
"Japan? That was ten, fifteen years ago! What am I supposed to   
remember?"  
  
"You don't remember? You were there just a couple of months   
ago."  
  
"I--" Whatever he was going to say died in his throat. He   
pulled free of Jake's half-hug and paced across the room. Crosetti   
and Felton had given up trying to be polite ane were watching the   
show with poorly disguised interest.  
  
He was about to protest that he didn't make it any further than   
Toronto, but he now knew that was a lie. Fragments of memory   
flickered and expired.  
  
Getting on the plane with Michel, and getting the stewardess to   
get seats reassigned so they could sit together and talk on the   
flight out.  
  
Arguing with someone in a dark, cavern-like room. At the edges   
of the room were things that must have crept out of some nightmare.  
  
Shaking his head in amusement and exasperation as a copper-  
haired young woman begged him to keep something secret for her. He   
was struck by the delight in her impossibly green eyes as he agreed   
to cover for her.  
  
Looking in quiet amazement and pride at the original of Jake's   
house of cards, watching it shimmer in sunlight as it hung in the   
darkness of space, its base ending not in a flat foundation, but in   
cataracts of crystal like sheets of water suspended in time.  
  
Watching beautiful dark eyes go wide with horror before the   
life faded... Enough!  
  
"What the hell is going on here! Tell me why I recognized that   
thing you were building!"  
  
Jake looked at him oddly for a moment. Jason could see the   
worry in his brother's eyes, but he didn't know what had put it   
there. "How much do you remember, Jase? About...before?"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, before?"  
  
The worry faded to hurt. "Don't you remember? The games we   
would play? The stories we'd make up?"  
  
Of *course* he remembered the fantasy role-playing game he and   
Jake used to dip into when they were younger. G.I. Joes, Micronauts,   
Stretch Armstrong, Legos, and Emma's Bionic Woman action figure were   
all brought into play to help create an elaborate serial adventure   
story. Somewhere in his basement was a box that held a folder full of   
the maps and drawings that they'd created over the years.  
  
"Remember how the stories kinda wrote themselves?"  
  
Jason froze. Things that had nearly been forgotten came back   
with astonishing clarity.  
  
"Didn't you ever wonder if we weren't making them up?"  
  
The blue castle shimmering and floating in space. Mariner   
Castle. The name wasn't in a language that he recognized, but the   
meaning was absolutely clear. He could remember bending his mind   
around pieces of fragile blue stone, shaping them and reconfiguring   
them so they could take the stress of supporting a building.  
  
"Didn't you ever wonder why we stopped playing? Why one day it   
just stopped being fun?"  
  
Other memories started to surface (he remembered pushing Jake   
to the ground after Jake had asked about the game one too many times)   
but he refused to look too closely at them.  
  
"Jake, I don't want to talk about this," he said, his voice   
shrill.  
  
"Jase, what's past is past. You can't change it, you can't get   
it back, and you sure as hell can't pretend it didn't happen."  
  
"Please. Don't..."  
  
"With us, though, something special happened. We got a one-in-  
a-million chance at a do-over, a chance to maybe get things right   
this time." Jake looked squarely at his brother. "Problem is, I died   
in a stupid accident. I was supposed to be with you for the ride, but   
I wasn't. That's how things got screwed up. Not because you messed   
up--which you did, so don't think you're off the hook--but because I   
wasn't there to help out. Seems there's some sort of loophole,   
though, which is why we can talk like this one last time."  
  
"Last?"  
  
Jake smiled sadly. For a moment, Jason saw other clothes   
superimposed over Jake's BCFD shirt, and somehow his brother's face   
looked different--longer and more tanned--but the eyes were the same.  
  
"Things may have gone wrong, but you haven't lost your chance   
at a do-over. That's pretty much what I'm here to tell you."  
  
"You mean I can go back and put everything right?" Jason still   
didn't understand half of what Jake was talking about, but the   
promise that he had another chance was something he could cling to as   
a lifeline.  
  
"Something like that. I got a feeling it's a little more   
complicated than that, though. C'mon, bro," Jake said, standing up.   
It broke Jason's heart to see that familiar, crooked grin. "Time, she   
is a wasting. We got things to see, people to do."  
  
Jason tried to laugh at the stale old joke, but it came out as   
more of a sob.  
  
"Now, I'll tell you this," Jake said, clapping a warm, solid   
hand on Jason's shoulder. "I've gotta be moving on..."  
  
"But..." Jason protested. Was this all they got? A few minutes   
to say goodbye and nothing more? That was *it*?  
  
"...but *you* got places to go, my man." Jake looked up at him,   
eyes narrowed mischievously. "If you want, that is. You can stay here   
with these clowns," he said gesturing back to Felton and Crosetti.   
Crosetti waved. "Or, you can go back out there and put up with   
whatever life's going to throw at you."  
  
Jason looked out the break room door. The squad room seemed   
much darker than it had before. There were no more shadows wandering   
around, but he couldn't help feeling that there was something--  
someone--waiting for him in there.   
  
Jake smiled at him, sadly. "I wish I could say it was going to   
be easy." He reached out and squeezed Jason's hand. "I wish you   
didn't have to go this alone. You know I'd do anything I could do to   
help. Maybe there's some way I could..." He shook his head as if   
chasing off that last thought. "I wish there was more I could do, but   
I don't think I'd be here to talk to you if you didn't have some sort   
of chance."  
  
"Yeah." He was barely able to say that much and he didn't trust   
himself to say any more.  
  
"Well, the least I can do is see you off," Jake said as he   
stood up. His voice didn't sound all that steady, either.  
  
Jason stood up and his brother grabbed him in a bear hug. They   
stood that way for a while, then let go.   
  
Once again, Jake's features and clothing seemed to shift. The   
person smiled at him with Jake's crooked smile, and when he spoke,   
once again Jason could understand the meaning behind an alien   
language. "Se phileo kai s'aphiemi, adelphe. 'Upage eirene."  
  
I love you and forgive you, my brother. Go in peace.  
  
Then, Jake was Jake again.   
  
"I love you, too," said Jason. Saying goodbye was harder now   
than it was at the funeral.  
  
Jake gently punched him in the shoulder. "Everything's gonna be   
just fine. Look after my girl for me, okay? Tell her I'm sorry things   
didn't work out so good for us this time around. It would've been   
nice to have a happy ending, but I guess it wasn't in the cards," he   
said wistfully.  
  
"Huh?" As far as he knew, Jake hadn't been seeing anyone   
seriously for over a year.  
  
"Ah, don't worry about it. Just be sure you don't waste *your*   
chance at a do-over." Jake held his brother at arms length, hands on   
his shoulders, as he studied him. "If you go through with this, it   
ain't gonna be easy, you know that."  
  
Jason blinked, trying to ignore the sting in his eyes. In the   
end, there really wasn't a goodbye, just one last hug, and then Jason   
turned and left.  
  
So, he departed the break room and passed into the squad room   
proper. It wasn't quite the River Styx, but he knew that he'd crossed   
over an important line. He recalled just enough of Brother Anthony's   
lectures on Greek mythology to know that he probably shouldn't turn   
around for one last look at Jake.  
  
The squad room was empty. The ghosts--if that was what they   
were--had gone off to haunt someone else. The desks looked the same   
as they always did. As he walked slowly towards the center of the   
room, he ran his fingers along the edge of Bayliss's desk, feeling   
the slight stickiness of coffee rings. He could even smell the faint   
odor of stale cigarette smoke that lingered in the walls years after   
they'd banned smoking in the workplace. Whatever this was, it was no   
dream or vision. It was solid, and it was true.  
  
The only hint of unreality was that nothing cast a shadow. A   
soft, dull light grayed everything ever so slightly. No, not   
everything--he caught a flicker of red out of the corner of his eye.   
He turned to look, but it was gone.   
  
There it was again, even larger this time, but again it   
vanished as soon as he tried to focus. Another bit of red flashed by   
like a gnat, and then another. He was so distracted by trying to find   
out what they were that he almost didn't notice that the light in   
Gee's office was on.  
  
His heart hammered in his throat. Bunk hadn't gotten Gee, had   
he? Gee was too big, too *alive* to have been gunned down by someone   
like that little punk. Jason took a deep breath and headed for Gee's   
office, ignoring the motes of red that were now rushing past him just   
on the edge of vision.  
  
Gee's door was flung open and there was Lieutenant Giardello   
himself, big as the wrath of God and twice as angry.  
  
"Wright! What are you loafing around here for?" he roared. He   
strode out into the squad room.  
  
Jason started to protest that he was dead--well, mostly dead,   
but Gee cut him off.  
  
"I don't want excuses, Wright. I want results!" He pointed over   
Wright's shoulder. "See that board? See all that red?"  
  
But there *wasn't* any red on the board. He'd seen it when he'd   
come in. The board was clean. In the land of the dead, it was the   
victims who were on trial, not their killers. He started to say   
something, but Giardello's expression stopped the words before they   
could even form.  
  
"The *board*, Wright," he repeated. "The city isn't paying you   
to stand around and be decorative."  
  
He didn't want to turn around. In places like this, turning   
around was a very bad idea. If you weren't careful, people turned   
into pillars of salt. Other times, you'd have to watch someone you   
loved being sucked back into hell. He'd stepped through the door, so   
he was going to live, wasn't he? Wasn't that enough? That he go on   
living and find some way to atone for what he had done?  
  
Giardello's expression softened and he laid one huge hand on   
Jason's shoulder. "Look, I know it's not fair, but you're the only   
man for the job right now."  
  
Jason looked into Gee's eyes. The dark face and even darker   
eyes were the same ones he remembered, but he had a feeling that it   
was someone other than Al Giardello looking out at him. He thought he   
saw a hint of red in Gee's irises, but he could have been imagining   
things.  
  
Speaking of red...  
  
Jason turned to look at the board and cried out in horror.  
  
The board was covered in names. Red kept flowing onto the board   
like blood trickling across slabs of marble.  
  
"You're a detective. Those are crimes. Solve them." Gee's voice   
was not unkind.  
  
The names were written in impossibly tiny script that looked   
like sandpiper tracks. There were so many names, and the motes of red   
kept flying to the board, adding name after name to the list. His own   
name was written large at the top of the board in strange black   
letters that looked as if they'd been carved deep into the white. He   
was the primary. These were *his* cases. *His* responsibility.  
  
"I can't do it, Gee," he said. "There are too many! How can   
I..."  
  
He was going to say 'solve them all,' but the words that wanted   
to come out of his mouth were something else altogether.  
  
"You have a choice, Talusidhis," Not-Gee said. Jason looked up   
at him. He still saw Gee, but he also saw someone else, with red eyes   
as opposed to Gee's brown, and pale golden skin as opposed to Gee's   
deep ebony.  
  
"That's not my name," he whispered harshly, but he couldn't   
deny that something in him sat up in recognition.  
  
"As I said, you have a choice." Not-Gee's voice had tones under   
it like warm, golden trumpets. "Face the truth, or..."  
  
What choice? He'd been trying to convince himself that things   
had not happened as they had, or to simply forget that they had   
happened at all, and he didn't want to live with that any more. He   
*couldn't* live with that any more.  
  
He answered before he could even hear what the 'or' might have   
been. "Okay. I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but   
I'll..."  
  
At that very instant, everything from those seven missing weeks   
came flooding back into his mind. Everything from the moment he had   
been offered a choice and had so carelessly made the wrong one.   
Everything he had seen. Everything--oh, Lord have mercy on his soul!   
--everything he had done!  
  
He had his seven weeks back, but memories kept flooding in,   
pressing in on his brain, nearly pushing *him* out.  
  
"Stop..." he croaked. "It hurts... NO! This isn't me! I never   
did these things!" He was half sobbing, half screaming. The memories   
kept on coming, far too many memories for one lifetime. He pressed   
his fists to his temples, babbling and begging for it to stop. He was   
getting lost in these memories, so lost he wasn't sure he could ever   
find himself again.  
  
"No...it wasn't supposed to happen like this!" Not-Gee cried to   
someone Jason couldn't see. "It's too much. He wasn't supposed to see   
this much!"  
  
It was no use. Jason saw it all, everything, all at once. Dark   
eyes, sad eyes, confused, and accusing, even as the life-light faded   
from them. Bodies, burned and bleeding, strewn across the floor of a   
marble palace. A figure, shrouded with fire, falling screaming from   
the sky like a murdered angel.  
  
Jason fell to his knees, battered down by the weight of the   
memories, screaming and screaming until his throat was raw and   
bloody.  
# # #  
Back in Taiyouko's apartment, three years and half a world   
away, Jason blinked his eyes. Taiyouko was watching him intently,   
even as she continued to work on a quilt she'd picked up to occupy   
her hands while Jason told his story.  
  
"That's when I woke up in the hospital. I started freaking out,   
not just because of all the stuff rattling around my head, but also   
because I had this big old tube jammed down my throat. It's weird   
because it's like you're choking, but this thing is what's *helping*   
you breathe, only it doesn't feel like it."   
  
Just thinking about it brought back an echo of frantic fear and   
panic. When the nurse de-intubated him, it was even worse. He'd felt   
like bits of *him* were coming out with the tube. For a couple of   
days after that, it hurt to speak.  
  
"According to the docs, I was pretty lucky. The bullet   
ricocheted off a rib, and bounced through me like a pachinko ball."  
  
Taiyouko nearly rammed the needle through her finger. "They   
call that *lucky?*"  
  
Jason shrugged. "It missed a major artery by about a   
millimeter. If it had hit that, I'd have bled out before the   
paramedics could get to me. That's why the diagnosis of 'lucky.' As   
it was, they wound up having to take out a bit of my left lung along   
with my..." His hand hovered over the lower edge of his rib cage.   
"It's 'spleen' in English, if that helps."  
  
Taiyouko looked properly horrified, and slightly ill. "They   
took parts of you *out*? Wouldn't that cause problems?"  
  
"It just means that I have to take heavy-duty antibiotics if I   
get so much as a cold," he said, exaggerating slightly. It was kind   
of fun to see Taiyouko knocked off balance like this. He had a   
feeling it didn't happen very often.  
  
"What happened to the others you mentioned?" Taiyouko didn't   
even attempt to pronounce their names. "And did you talk to this   
'Gee' person about Mahoney?"  
  
"I tried to, but he said it had all come clean while I was in   
the hospital, and all he wanted was for everyone to forget about it."  
  
Taiyouko looked less than pleased at that, and her stitching   
started to look more like repeated stabbing.  
  
"Kellerman agreed to resign, and that seemed to settle matters   
as far as Gee was concerned." He didn't mention that Frank Pembleton   
had also resigned in disgust over Giardello's refusal to take matters   
any further than that. He didn't want to hear Taiyouko's comments on   
the matter. "Still, it doesn't change the fact that three cops were   
dead. When they went after Georgia Rae that night, Bayliss got shot   
and was messed up even worse than I was. Gharty's wound looked a lot   
worse than it was, from what I understand. Ballard got shot in the   
ankle, which doesn't sound so bad, but she wound up having to go   
through more surgery and physical therapy than the rest of us, if you   
can believe that. Giardello thought that more than enough damage had   
been done to the department already, and pretty much told me that if   
I needed to ease my conscience, to go to my parish priest."  
  
"And did you?"  
  
"No."   
  
He realized with no little shock that this was the first time   
he'd ever sat down and told anyone even this much of the story. He   
had told the story to himself so many times that he felt that   
everyone else must be as sick of it as he was.  
  
"It's three years later, Wonder-boy. Are you trying to tell me   
that it's been that long since you've done anything about what you   
saw?" she asked derisively. "It sounds to me like someone has a   
slight problem with follow-through."  
  
He could feel the heat rising to his face. "Why should I have   
done anything?" he snapped. "I kept telling myself that it wasn't   
real. Also, I had enough to do with getting over being shot. It's not   
like it is on TV, where you're back on the job the next week like   
nothing happened. I had twelve weeks of recovery and therapy before I   
could even go back on desk duty." Twelve weeks of forcing himself to   
cough up the gunk from his lungs even though it felt like the effort   
would kill him. Twelve weeks of being left alone all too often with   
nothing but his own thoughts for company. "It was worse than the   
hospital in Norfolk. Then, I was missing memories. This time, I had   
too many."   
  
"And what are these memories about, anyway? You were starting   
to tell me, but then you cut away into a recitation of your internal   
organs."  
  
He pressed his hands to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.   
"You never let go, do you? You just want to get right to the answer,   
no matter what."  
  
Taiyouko didn't answer that. She just sat there with a quilting   
frame and piles of yellow and green calico in her lap, stitching away   
implacably. For a moment, he thought he saw her face subtly shift   
from expression to expression as it had earlier that day.   
  
"So, you're sure that what you saw wasn't just a dream?" she   
said, once the flurry of expressions had passed. "Most people don't   
believe in dreams or visions. I'm not saying I think you're crazy. I   
just want to know why *you* think you aren't."  
  
"Sometimes, I think I *am* more than a little crazy," he   
muttered. "It would be easier if I was, but you know what it's like,   
being a detective. You have to follow the evidence, even if you don't   
like where it takes you. Too bad for me, every bit of evidence I've   
found only leads me to think that all that shit I saw was real. You   
handed me one piece of it yourself."  
  
"The phone number. Have you called?" she asked matter-of-  
factly, as if asking if he'd called to schedule a dentist's   
appointment.  
  
He shook his head. From the feel of things, he was blushing   
again. "Too scared," he said. "Scared of what I might hear. Scared of   
screwing up someone's life the way mine's been screwed up. I wouldn't   
wish this on anyone, you know?"  
  
"What other evidence have you found?" Taiyouko seemed to be   
completely immune to any kind of bid for sympathy.   
  
He shrugged. "I've got a few names, but that's it. One of them   
has some weird foreign spelling, and I haven't been able to get   
anywhere. The first lead I followed was the guy I met in Toronto. I   
had a chance to talk with him and hear something about his life. To   
be honest, I first started digging into this because I was hoping to   
find out that I was wrong, and all of this was only some sort of   
dream. Too bad for me, I find out that not only was Michel real, he'd   
gone missing at about the same time that I took off for seven weeks."  
  
"Let me guess," she drawled. "Unlike someone else we know, he   
didn't just reappear out of the blue one day."  
  
Jason nodded. "About six months ago friend of a friend got me   
in touch with someone in the RCMP. I passed along what I knew to this   
Constable Fraser, and a few days later I get a scary phone call from   
an Inspector Thatcher. She tells me that not only is the Celeste   
disappearance still an open case, I just might be in a shitload of   
trouble since my getting on the plane with him in Toronto makes me   
one of the last people to ever see the guy. Getting raked over the   
coals by a Mountie did a lot to get rid of some of my doubts."  
  
"Given the fact that you can move objects with your mind, I'm   
surprised you stayed a doubter as long as you did."  
  
"It's not the same," he grumbled. His dad, his siblings,   
several of his uncles, and his grandfather were all similarly gifted.   
He'd grown up thinking it was normal, but one of those things that   
you kept hidden from those outside the family, like a family tendency   
towards kleptomania. "Celeste and Ellwood have paper trails. I bet   
the other guy would, too, if I could get his name right. That's   
*evidence*. You know, the stuff you take to court? The problem I'm   
running into is all the other stuff that got poured into my head   
while I was on the operating table."  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'stuff?' I've noticed that   
you keep sidling up to telling me something, then backing off.   
Earlier, you told me that this all was somehow connected to the Chiba   
case, so you know I'm not going to let you get away with skirting the   
issue forever. What's the problem with just telling me?"  
  
"The problem I have is that I don't like people thinking I've   
gone completely nuts! Don't I get even a little credit for telling   
you as much as I have?"  
  
Taiyouko made a little 'hmph' sound. She was listening, but she   
was also occupied with a tricky bit of stitching.  
  
"I already told you I believed you when you told me about Chiba   
being a king and his girlfriends being some sort of superheroes. So,   
now that you've finished acting out, why don't we try approaching   
this from another direction. You told me that some extra memories   
found their way into your head, correct? You have nothing against   
which to check these memories to see if they're true or nothing more   
than a hallucination, also correct?"  
  
She took her scissors and snipped the quilting thread close to   
the fabric. "Assume for a moment that someone has come up to you and   
recounted a set of memories that matched several aspects of your own.   
Let's imagine that this person told you about a large marble palace--  
somewhat Indian in design, I'd say--with a spectacular view of the   
Earth hanging in space. Unfortunately, this person also tells you   
that there's some sort of war with people flinging lightning and   
firebolts left and right. This war..."  
  
She was taken with a sudden coughing fit, but held up a finger   
to tell Jason that she wasn't done speaking.  
  
He didn't wait for her to recover.  
  
"You..." he pointed at her. "You... know about this?" His voice   
went up several octaves. "I've been sitting here turning my brain   
inside out, and you've known all along what I was going to say?"  
  
Taiyouko shrugged. She wiped her eyes clear of the tears the   
cough had shaken loose.  
  
"To be honest, I was taking a shot in the dark. You're not the   
only one with memories that seem to have taken place in another life   
that's very different from this one," she said with surprising   
gentleness. "I was hoping you could tell me more about the Chiba   
case, but I wasn't expecting to get some confirmation that *I* wasn't   
crazy."  
  
He turned that over in his head for a bit, trying to fit these   
new facts into what he knew. For a moment, he studied the older   
detective, taking in anew the short, dumpy form and pinched face.  
  
"You... you're not trying to tell me that you're one of those   
Sailor Senshi, are you?"  
  
Her mouth pursed and her hazel eyes narrowed in amused disgust.   
"I should hope not! Let's just say that after a certain age, butt-  
bows and mini-skirts are not exactly a good idea."  
  
Jason, in a move born of sheer self-preservation, clapped one   
hand over his mouth.  
  
"You'd better not be laughing,"  
  
"Er...sorry."  
  
"As it turns out, I haven't a clue about whether I'm a Sailor   
Senshi or something else altogether. All I know is that there's this   
other person in my head..." She scowled and rolled her eyes. "Fine!   
Be that way! Apparently," she said, enunciating with the precision of   
the well and truly pissed off, "there's another aspect of *me* in   
here. It *claims* that it *is* me, that I'm *it*, that it's always   
*been* me, that it's always *been* here." She shook her head in   
disgust.  
  
Jason blinked a couple of times. "You've been possessed by   
Ambassador Kosh?"  
  
She stared at him, then waved his failed joke aside.   
"Possession, past life, who cares? All I know is that I'd better not   
start coughing up pea soup and having my head spin round and round."  
  
"I'm with you there," he said in all sincerity. He got up and   
paced around the apartment, trying to find something in the folksy-  
country dŽcor to take his mind off the implications of what she was   
telling him. "So, I've told you my freaky story. What now?"  
  
Taiyouko raised one eyebrow. "Now? Now you tell me about those   
missing seven weeks and what this has to do with the case we're   
investigating. I'm not done with you, Wonder-boy."  
  
"Do I have to?" God, that sounded whiny. He wished he could   
rewind, erase, and say something that didn't make him sound like a   
six-year-old.  
  
Taiyouko thought about that for a while. Then, she cocked her   
head and smiled nastily. "Yes."  
  
Well, that didn't give him much wiggle room, did it? He was   
torn between running for the door and launching right into the worst   
part of his story.   
  
It wasn't that he didn't want to tell the story. What he wanted   
was to tell the story to someone who could offer him some kind of   
absolution. Taiyouko wasn't that person. In fact, she was likely to   
rake him over the coals for each little transgression.  
  
A small, traitorous part of himself told him that this was   
*exactly* why he had opened up to the curmudgeonly little detective.  
  
"Let me tell you something, Wonder-boy," she said, interrupting   
his thoughts. "I was the primary on this case fourteen years ago.   
That's when this whatever-it-is in my mind woke up for the first   
time."   
  
Her voice trailed off for a moment, then she shook her head and   
continued. "Maybe not the *first* time, but that's beside the point.   
What's important here is that these extra memories didn't start   
winkling their way back in until the Chiba case was reopened--and   
reopened with no good explanation, mind you. Once I add you and your   
experiences into the equation, things move past coincidental to   
pretty damned fishy. Oh! And let's not forget that you recognized   
something about those mud creatures that attacked us."  
  
His heart sank. "Yes. I did." He'd recognized the enchantment,   
all right. It was just one more sign that he if he kept following   
this road, he wasn't going to like what he found.   
  
He held up a hand, stopping Taiyouko before she could say   
anything else. "I'll tell you everything I can, but can you give me--  
I don't know--an hour? This isn't easy for me, you know? I need to   
get out, think a little."  
  
"Sure." Taiyouko chuckled, but her eyes were still cold and   
fierce. "Get me a pack of cigarettes--Mild Sevens--while you're at   
the bar."  
  
That stung far more than he would have expected. Jason risked   
glaring at Taiyouko. Sure enough, she was smirking at him. She'd   
scored a hit, and she knew it.  
  
The smirk softened to an almost-smile. "I think we both deserve   
a little recreational self-destruction right about now. Just don't   
get plastered, okay? Get back here by six, and I'll order us in some   
dinner. What do you think goes best with past-life regression? Pizza?   
Chicken korma?"  
  
Jason slammed the door on his way out.  
  
She could just sit there wondering if he'd be back, he thought   
bitterly, but she probably knew as well as he did that he'd come back   
to finish his story. Right now, he just needed to get out and see the   
real world for a while, and remind himself...  
  
Remind himself of what, exactly? Of what was real?  
  
He shook his head. He'd learned from hard experience that   
thinking in that way was pretty much the opposite of helpful.  
  
One flight down from Taiyouko's floor, he paused, almost   
continued on down the stairs, but turned and headed down the second   
floor hallway instead.  
  
This was no doubt a *spectacularly* bad idea, he told himself   
even as he knocked on Makoto's door.   
  
A minute later, he knocked again. No answer. He leaned down to   
see if he could tell if the light coming from under the door was just   
the last of the afternoon light, or a sign that someone was home.  
  
After another minute he wandered off, feeling strangely bereft.   
He was grateful for Taiyouko's demand for cigarettes. It was good to   
have even a little sense of direction for a while.  
# # #  
Author's Notes: Thanks again to Ice Princess and Luna Hope for their   
help as beta readers.  
  
Writing process and progress. Some of the delays in posting the last   
part of this chapter were work related. In other ways, this was a   
difficult chapter to write. The timing and placement of the last   
several scenes was tricky. Originally, Jason's telling of the Mahoney   
killing and his dream were all one, long scene, with the   
Setsuna/Haruka confrontation occurring before Jason appeared at   
Taiyouko's apartment. By putting the first part of the Jason/Taiyouko   
scene right after the scene with Mother, I hoped to carry over some   
of the notion that the past still has the power to hurt us. Also,   
there was a boatload of exposition to shoehorn in here.  
  
"Homicide" fans will probably notice that Jason's after-life vision   
was quite similar to the one at the end of the movie-length series   
finale. The title of this chapter was also lifted directly from the   
sixth-season two-parter where Junior Bunk shot up the squad room, but   
that's not the only reason I used that title. In that episode, three   
uniformed officers were shot and killed. Gharty was shot in the   
chest, and Ballard was shot in the ankle. Figuring that there were   
six bullets in the gun, I decided I could add Jason to the casualty   
list.  
  
Question to my devoted (or at least mildly bemused) readers: Would a   
supplemental chapter with timelines, etc. be welcome or not?  
  
Music listened to during this chapter: "Scarlet's Walk" by Tori Amos.   
The first "due South" soundtrack (and yes, that was a shout-out you   
saw earlier on). "When I Wake" by Rusted Root.  
  
Coming soon (in geological terms): Chapter 11: Flashpoint 


	13. Ashes, Ashes

Empire of the Sun by Sophia Prester  
  
SPECIAL NOTE: The chapter following this one is an overview of chapters 1 through 10 and a bit of a "who's who." If you think you need a refresher before reading this chapter, you may want to skip to the summary.  
  
Disclaimer and Author's Notes: They're not mine, and I'm not making money off of them, so don't sue, okay? Skip to the end for the boring and self- aggrandizing bits.  
  
Chapter Eleven: Ashes, Ashes  
  
Saturday, July 7, 5:08 p.m.  
  
Ami and Makoto lounged on the steps leading up to the Hikawa Shrine, enjoying the dappled shade offered by the camphor trees. A half-block down the street, Hotaru and ChibiUsa were embroiled in a game that was half tag, half tickle-fight as they waited by the bus stop. Traffic-muffled shouts and drumming from the nearby festival ground triggered a shiver of anticipation that Ami hadn't felt since she was a child.  
  
The temperature had gone up higher than expected, but the blanketing heat and hazy afternoon sunlight felt right for Tanabata. Even the smell of diesel fumes and scorched pavement sent her rocketing back to her childhood. With a scrap of imagination, she could smell and taste the sticky-sweetness of her favorite festival treats. She could even remember what her father smelled like as she sat on his shoulders to watch the puppet show. The analytical part of her mind could break that smell down to its component parts--turpentine, linseed oil, aftershave, and cigarette smoke--but taken together, they always smelled like 'Daddy'.  
  
Strange, how pollution, chemicals, and stifling hot weather could make her feel so... what? Giddy? Happy? Content? She was pretty sure there was a word that described what she was feeling, but her brain didn't feel like making the effort. Instead, she would rather think about all the garishly colored candies, cakes, and shaved ice that she loved as a child. Would they still taste good to her now? If they didn't, would it spoil the memory of how they tasted to her all those years ago?  
  
It didn't take long, though, for nostalgia to give way to annoyance. Happy associations or not, the heat was getting to her. She checked her watch. Ten minutes after five.  
  
Sailor Sun was, to no one's surprise, running late. The four-fifty bus had come and gone, the next bus was ten minutes away, and despite the heat, the two youngest Senshi could not keep a lid on their excitement and impatience. Ami was constantly amazed at how those two could act like miniature adults one minute and giddy little girls the next. No wonder Haruka was constantly bolting down aspirin and complaining of tension headaches.  
  
After a few more minutes of companionable silence, Makoto turned and grinned at Ami. "You know what's weird?"  
  
"No, but you're going to tell me, aren't you?" Ami teased.  
  
Makoto's smile was genuine, but something seemed off. "I was trying to remember what it was like to be that young, and it hit me that right now Hotaru is the same age *we* were when we first became Sailor Senshi." She paused. "I'm not even eighteen yet. So why am I talking like an old auntie?"  
  
"I promise to stop you if you ever do it again."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Down by the bus-stop, ChibiUsa snatched Hotaru's straw hat and danced away, sticking out her tongue. Hotaru's shriek of mock outrage frightened one of Rei's crows into flight. Makoto smiled more widely even as her face grew a little sadder.  
  
"Mako-chan, are you okay?"  
  
Makoto watched the crow glide back to its perch on the shrine gate. "Yeah. It's just that old Auntie Makoto was trying to remember what it was like to play around like that," she said, nodding towards the two younger girls, "But I'm not sure I ever did. Not really. Not after..."  
  
"I know," Ami said, before Makoto had to say anything else. She reached out and rubbed her friend's shoulder. She hoped Makoto knew it wasn't just empty sympathy. Ami had two living parents, parents who loved her, but she recognized their absence more than their presence. Between her mother's odd hours at the hospital and her father's never-ending artistic retreat, much of the work of raising Ami had fallen to, well, Ami.  
  
Makoto gave her best friend a twisted smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be so cheerful. Speaking of cheerful, I keep meaning to ask you--did Minako-chan say why she decided to bail on us at the last minute? It's not like her to miss an opportunity to party-hearty."  
  
"You saw her in class yesterday. She was more asleep than awake most of the time," Ami said. "Perhaps she thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up on missed sleep."  
  
Truth be told, Ami suspected that Minako was more than a little jealous over Makoto's luck in securing a genuine dinner date with a guy. Ami had seen for herself how nasty things could get when Minako and Makoto were in competition over a man. 'Competition' was definitely the right word where Minako was concerned. Minako would probably take Makoto's crowing about her success in the dating game as a challenge. It had happened before.  
  
This time was different, though. Makoto didn't seem inclined to boast. They only found out about the date because they were trying to schedule a study- buddy session for Sunday evening, and Makoto said she had plans. Of course, Minako, Usagi, ChibiUsa, and Hotaru demanded all the details. Makoto merely blushed and explained that she was just getting together for dinner with someone she'd run into in her neighborhood, and that it probably wasn't anything serious.  
  
When Minako pressed for more details--rather like a general debriefing a recon patrol to find out just how much of an advantage the other side held-- Makoto grudgingly admitted that she thought the guy was 'sort of cute, I guess,' but refused to go into any more detail than that, once again insisting that it wasn't anything serious, just dinner.  
  
With that much protest, Ami couldn't help thinking that maybe it *was* a little serious.  
  
She wasn't sure how she felt about that.  
  
It wasn't simple jealousy that Makoto had a date and she didn't. It felt more like fear. Fear that she and her friends would drift apart into their own lives as they grew older. Fear that her one chance at true love had been in another, far distant life.  
  
She wondered if she would ever be able to feel about someone the way Egeria felt about Ikarus. She tried not to wonder what happened to the two lovers in the end. Well, quite obviously, Sailor Mercury had died in that final battle between the Earth and the Moon, but what about Ikarus? Had he died? Been corrupted by Beryl? Had they wound up on opposing sides? Or, had they simply drifted apart long before then?  
  
Part of her said that the last option would have been impossible. Another part hesitantly reminded her of a time when her parents always stayed within touching distance of each other, and when they spoke to one another with tender looks and half-completed sentences.  
  
Of course, she knew exactly what had happened to *her*. She had died, just like all the other Senshi. Did Ikarus outlive her, or was he also killed in the strife between earth and moon? Had she ever received news of his death, or he of hers? Ami knew that Ikarus must have died eventually, literally eons ago. That much was simple fact, but she still felt a distant hollowness at the thought and her fists tightened.  
  
Egeria should have been allowed to have a happy ending. Maybe they had all been given second chances, but it wasn't the same. She and Egeria may have shared a destiny, powers, and maybe even a soul, but they were not the same person.  
  
But if these dreams kept on coming, if Egeria's memories kept on becoming *her* memories...  
  
Ami's mind spiraled downwards on that course of thought until Makoto's muttered curse brought her back to the present.  
  
When Ami looked up Makoto held up her watch and pointed at the time. "She'd better be on the next bus. The one after that won't be here until six." She sighed and slumped back against the steps. "You haven't found out anything new about this Sailor Sun, have you?"  
  
Ami smiled, grateful for the interruption. She had been halfway into a bleak mood without even noticing how she'd gotten that far.  
  
"I'm afraid I haven't," she said. "I've gone through everything I could find on the Mercury computer, and I didn't find even a hint of a Sailor Sun."  
  
Finding buried files on the Mercury computer was a laborious process, and so far none of her dreams had given her any insight into how Egeria used the computer. While the various analytic programs and features worked just fine, there was no easy way to get to any stored files or data, or even figure out just how much was cached away in the computer's seemingly infinite memory. She *had* unearthed a series of what looked like official reports that hinted at Senshi from outside their solar system, but she only found them because she knew to look for information on the Starlights, Sailor Mau, Sailor Coronis, Sailor Chuu, and so on.  
  
"There hasn't been anything in my past memories about any such person, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I'm pretty sure that I... I mean the first Sailor Mercury didn't know about Uranus, Neptune, or Pluto until *this* time around."  
  
Makoto shook her head. "Oh, yeah. *That* was just tons of fun. Too bad we didn't know more about Sailor Saturn at the time. Maybe we could have kept Hotaru from having to go through all that Mistress 9 crap." She blinked a couple of times. "Wait a sec--you said your past self didn't know about Haruka, Michiru, or Setsuna, but you didn't say anything about Hotaru. *Did* we know about Sailor Saturn back then?"  
  
The younger girls snapped to attention as a bus stopped at the intersection at the bottom of the hill. The way they sagged in perfect stereo when the bus turned to head the other way sent Makoto and Ami into a fit of the giggles. It didn't last long, though.  
  
"Saturn. It's odd... When I dream, all I usually see is what was going on during that time. I don't actually *become* my past self in my dreams. It's more like I'm a passenger in her head--I see what she sees, hear what she hears, feel what she feels..." Hot blood rose to her cheeks as a series of intimate details flashed through her memories. She forced herself to think of the smell of pavement and the sound of drums. "Anyway, every now and then, a scrap of memory bleeds through, especially if it was about something highly emotional. It's completely random, and not always very helpful, but..."  
  
"But," Makoto prompted.  
  
"But I *have* picked up enough of her memories to gather that our former selves did know about Sailor Saturn, and..." Once again, she paused, trying to find words to fit something she only felt in her gut. "It was the sort of thing that everyone knew about but never discussed. It reminds me of how I don't like to talk about my father in front of Mom."  
  
Makoto laughed bitterly. "Yeah. I get it. It's like those times when the rest of you get to talking about things you're doing with family. After a couple of minutes, someone notices that *I'm* there, and everyone gets all flustered and changes the subject real fast."  
  
Ami felt a bit queasy. Did they really do that?  
  
"I've seen it happen around Mamoru, too," Makoto added.  
  
Ami didn't know how to respond. In the end, it seemed best just to go on with her story.  
  
"When I used to think about the Silver Millennium, I remembered--or imagined, I guess I should say--that our former selves were exactly the same as we are now. It was enough of a surprise to find out that we had different names, even though I knew we didn't speak Japanese back then."  
  
Makoto's melancholy vanished in a surge of curiosity.  
  
"We looked different? How different? Do you remember what the old Sailor Jupiter was like? Is she... was she like me at all?"  
  
Ami closed her eyes and did her best to recall her dream from the night before. She'd only seen the former Jupiter a few times. "Your former self was named Amalthea."  
  
Makoto turned the name over in her mouth several times, as if repetition would bring with it some sort of recognition.  
  
"Gah! Forget it! I can't even *pronounce* that name, let alone remember it! Did whoever came up with those names hate the Japanese language or something?" She crossed her arms and glowered. "Go on. Anything else? What did I look like? How different was I back then?"  
  
"You didn't look *very* different. Your eyes were more gray than green, and you wore your ponytail looser, down here," Ami said, tapping the nape of her neck. "If the two of you could have met, people probably would have assumed you were sisters. I can't be sure, but I think you might be a little bit taller than she was. Amalthea also liked pretty things, just like you do, and I *do* remember that your... her rooms were like a second home for most of us." Ami wasn't entirely certain, because so many little, important things were never explained in her dreams, but she believed Amalthea had been several years older than the other Senshi, and had mothered the younger girls.  
  
"Was she a good cook?"  
  
"*Fabulous*!" That was one of Egeria's more sensual memories she didn't feel at all awkward about sharing. Ami couldn't help wallowing for a moment in the memory of a velvety-smooth spiced custard, peppered throughout with tiny, pale yellow berries that Amalthea had brought back from Europa. The berries were light as air, but burst in the mouth like grapes, and tasted of tart apples and ginger.  
  
Ami's stomach rumbled quite loudly, and Makoto smirked in satisfaction.  
  
"Anything else?" she prompted.  
  
"Amalthea loved to skate, and was very good at it, but you knew that already. The other night, I dreamed about a party on the Moon, and you... she was wearing a long velvet dress, and a cloak with some sort of leafy pattern woven into it."  
  
Makoto demanded more detail, and Ami was happy to oblige.  
  
"Your dress was a dark, rosy pink, and I think it had a lot of lace around the neck. Your cloak was a pretty gray, almost lavender, really. It looked..." She thought for a moment, wishing she knew more about the history of fashion. "Victorian? That's not quite right, but it's close. I could tell just by watching that you loved the way your cape and skirt spun out around you as you skated. I remember that your hair was pinned up--it was more golden-brown than red-brown now that I think about it, but just as wavy--with a huge pink flower."  
  
The icy-pink flower had been a gift for her, for Egeria, and she could recall the spicy scent that was a mixture of roses, carnations, and cherries. There had been nothing in the dream to tell her who had sent the flower, but she was certain it was not Ikarus. Instead of flowers, his gifts tended to be things that he had crafted himself, things made of metal, wood, and stone. Besides, Egeria had only felt fondness, affection, and more than a little exasperation when she saw the flower, and when Amalthea had admired the flower, Egeria was pleased to pass the gift along to her friend. She didn't think she would have given away one of Ikarus's gifts quite so readily.  
  
The air had stilled, and Ami absently fanned herself with the bus schedule. Hopefully things would start to cool down once the sun set. "I remember it was so cold that I was absolutely miserable, and missing Mercury's warmth, but you--your cheeks were pink with the cold and you were laughing at the way your breath made little clouds."  
  
Makoto laughed. "Do you think you could talk Michiru into drawing me a picture sometime, so I could really see? I still think it's totally unfair that I got left out of the whole dream thing." Ami was about to ask Makoto about that, but Makoto was on a roll. "What about the others?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her face. "Anything that they might find... interesting?"  
  
Ami couldn't help laughing. "Blackmail isn't nice, Mako-chan. Well, the one I... I mean Egeria... spent the most time with back then was Sailor Mars." She described the slight physical differences between the two and how Harmonia lacked Rei's confidence but none of her devotion to their Princess. Ami remembered how close Serenity and Harmonia had been back then, and how that closeness had re-established itself despite the clashes caused by Usagi's flightiness and Rei's often prickly nature. "Mars was a warrior culture, and I remember how surprised Egeria was that Harmonia was so, well, 'mellow' is the best way to describe it."  
  
"Mellow Rei. Huh," said Makoto. "I can't see it."  
  
Ami went on to describe Sailor Venus as best she could, but Minako's forerunner was still something of an enigma to her. Kytheria could have been Minako's clone, but for the tawny cast of her skin and the flecks of amber in her deep blue eyes. Also, she didn't think that Egeria had ever seen Kytheria smile. She wasn't as close to the others as Minako now was, and she took her duties as leader of the Senshi *very* seriously. She had been a valued comrade, but not really a friend.  
  
She couldn't very well leave out Sailor Mercury.  
  
"It's hard for me to tell how Egeria and I are different," she explained. Her dreams of Egeria were so intimate, so all-encompassing, it was hard to see where things were different, or if they really were different at all. Physically, of course, the differences were obvious, as Egeria had been half river-spirit. The few glimpses she'd gotten in a mirror or some other reflective surface told her that Egeria's skin was pale as fine marble, and that her hair was icy indigo and not just an unusually bluish blue-black. Sometimes Ami thought she looked ethereal and exotic. Other times, she thought Egeria looked like a drowning victim.  
  
Makoto could live without knowing about the webbed fingers.  
  
Ami was just about to tell Makoto about the few things she knew about the colonies on Miranda and Triton when a bus pulled into the intersection and turned to chug up the hill to the Sendai Hill stop.  
  
ChibiUsa stood on tiptoe, as if trying to spot Sun through the bus windows. Hotaru retrieved a plastic shopping back from under the bench.  
  
Several people got off the bus and headed up to the shrine or down the cross street to the festival grounds. Ami had just about resigned herself to waiting for the six o' clock bus when a stout woman with dingy gray hair and a face like an overcooked potato stepped off the bus. She held Sailor Sun firmly by the hand, but that didn't stop Sun from pulling free and dashing over to the two younger girls and nearly crushing ChibiUsa to death with a hug. Hotaru came to the rescue with a shopping bag crammed full of videos. Sun dropped ChibiUsa and literally squealed with excitement as she yanked the bag away from Hotaru.  
  
The old woman was finally able to get Sun's attention. Whatever she said had Sun acting meek and quiet--at least for the moment.  
  
Ami and Makoto stood up. "You know, that's not what I imagined 'Mother' looking like," Makoto whispered. The strange woman wore khaki shorts which were uncomfortably close in color to her heavy orthopedic stockings. A man's blue oxford-cloth shirt, baggy around the shoulders and tight around the hips, accented her dumpling shape. "Didn't Sun say she was really pretty or something?"  
  
"Oh, dear," Ami said, taking a glance at the old woman, who was glowering suspiciously at the two youngest Senshi. She noticed that the old woman's shirt had yellowed stains around the armpits, and felt guilty for noticing. "You don't suppose she's going to come with us, do you?"  
  
They walked down to the stop to meet Sun and her guardian. The old woman's face relaxed when she saw the two older girls coming to meet them. She bowed to them curtly.  
  
"Thank you for wait," she said in a smoke-roughened voice. "She is very..." she waved her hand around as if trying to catch the right word. "Excitement. We run late, miss first bus."  
  
Marfa pointedly cleared her throat, and Sun snapped to attention, nearly dropping the shopping bag.  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry! Saturn gave me a whole bunch of cartoons!" She pawed through the bag, pulling out video after video for the old woman to inspect. "There's Doraemon, but I've seen lots of those, and Card Captor Sakura, and Panda-Go-Panda, and Kimba..."  
  
Ami and ChibiUsa gaped at each other in wide-eyed horror. Had Sun just introduced Hotaru as Saturn?  
  
The old woman laid a hand on Sun's shoulder. "No planets," she said, gently but leaving no room for argument. "No Senshi. Remember what Matushka say about secrets."  
  
Sun clapped a hand over her mouth and Makoto had to struggle not to laugh.  
  
ChibiUsa, of all people, was the one to defuse the situation. It made sense, Ami realized, once she thought about it. After all, ChibiUsa had been raised as a princess. Diplomacy was part of the job description.  
  
"It's okay. No one was around. You can call me ChibiUsa-chan, and my friends are Hotaru-chan, Ami-chan, and Mako-chan." There was a pointed absence of last names.  
  
"Marfa," said the old woman, laying a hand on her chest. She then turned to Sun. "Remember what you say when someone give you gift?" she chided.  
  
"I'm sorry, Marfa-obasan." Sun ducked her head and smiled shyly at her guardian, whose grim expression lightened just a little. Ami had a sinking feeling that even though the girl wasn't all that bright, she was a master manipulator.  
  
Sun then turned to Hotaru. "Thank you very much for your kind gift, Hotaru- chan," she said, enunciating every word just so.  
  
"Is very kind," Marfa assured Hotaru. She leaned in close to Hotaru and winked. "Is most kind to those who want quiet afternoon while she watch television."  
  
Marfa laughed heartily and turned back to talk to Sun. Hotaru wrinkled her nose and made a show of fanning the bad breath away from her face. Meanwhile, Marfa was trying to persuade Sun to let go of her new treasures.  
  
"I take home," Marfa said, pulling gently at the bag. "You watch there, on Misha's big television. You take to festival, you lose somewhere."  
  
"That's a good idea," Hotaru soothed, cutting off Sun's protests. "You won't be able to watch them until you get home. Besides, you'll need your hands free to carry other things at the festival--food, prizes, gifts..."  
  
Sun weighed the two temptations against each other, then let go reluctantly. Makoto excused herself and ran up the temple steps to fetch Rei.  
  
The bus trundled off, but Marfa was unconcerned. She spent a good five minutes straightening Sun's hat, smoothing the wrinkles out of her shirt, patting her down, tucking her in, and repeating instructions in heavily- accented Japanese. Look both ways when crossing the street. Don't go anywhere without your friends. Ask before you touch. Say 'please' and 'thank you.' Don't buy any more stuffed animals. Don't buy any more keychains. Use the money Matushka gave you to treat your friends to ice cream. Buy a little gift for Matushka, to thank her for letting you go out with your new friends. Don't buy any more pencil-toppers. Don't buy any more stickers. Do *not* use your powers. If you get lost, stay in one place until your friends find you. Try to keep your new clothes clean.  
  
Ami took a good look at those new clothes. Sun looked like an overgrown five-year-old in a yellow tee-shirt with a picture of Spottie Dottie, and pink and white striped shorts with a hem that was almost to the knee. Her sneakers were yellow with pink laces and Spottie Dottie bow clips, and the yellow bow on her braid was dotted with puffy pink fabric paint.  
  
The crowning touch was the white canvas bucket hat. It had a pink grosgrain hatband painted with puffy yellow dots to mirror her hair ribbon. A somewhat battered silk sunflower--probably salvaged from some other outfit-- was pinned to the brim, pulling the hat a little bit off true so that Sun was constantly adjusting the hat, yanking it down as hard as she could over her ears.  
  
The entire ensemble screamed 'I was dressed by my mother.'  
  
Ami winced in sympathy, remembering some of the outfits she'd so meekly agreed to wear before Usagi and Naru had taken her on an educational mall- hopping tour.  
  
Makoto and a grim-faced Rei arrived in the middle of Marfa's instructions, and were able to add their reassurances to Ami's that one of the older girls would be with Sun at all times.  
  
"She is not bad girl," the old woman said wearily. "Is simple, always sticks nose in things like puppy, but is good girl. You have good time at festival. Also, please do not buy her stuffed animals, unless very, very small." She sat down on the bench by the bus-stop, wincing as her knees bent. "Go. Have good time. Misha or I meet you here for nine-o-clock bus."  
  
Ami felt guilty about leaving her there, but Marfa pulled a bottle of water, a magazine, and a half-finished sock out of her purse and started reading and knitting away.  
  
Hotaru and ChibiUsa each grabbed one of Sun's hands, and they took off in the direction of the festival. Ami watched carefully, but ChibiUsa was somehow making sure that the trio stopped often enough that the older girls could keep them in sight.  
  
"How's your grandfather doing, Rei-chan?" Makoto asked once they decided that ChibiUsa had things well enough in hand. "He looked like he's feeling better."  
  
Rei's lips were pressed into a tight line. Had Hino-san's recent bout with the flu been worse than they'd thought?  
  
"He's doing well, all right," Rei grumbled. "In fact, he's doing so well that I think he's started to put some clues together. For the past few days, he's been asking questions, making comments--nothing *too* obvious-- but I'm pretty sure he's figured out that I'm involved with something supernatural."  
  
And the Senshi were nothing if not supernatural, Ami thought. Keeping their civilian identities was something that was always on their minds. It had to be. There were too many opportunities to let something slip.  
  
"Are you sure you're not reading something into what he's saying that isn't there?" Ami asked. (  
  
"Rei, this is your grandpa we're talking about," Makoto gently pointed out. "The only thing he's probably noticed about the Senshi is that our skirts are short."  
  
Rei laughed. "Grandpa only acts like a silly old goat when you guys are around. For some reason, he thinks it's funny to get me all wound up."  
  
Ami and Makoto decided it was best not to reply to that comment.  
  
"Sometimes, even I forget just how smart he really is. Did you know that he worked in cryptography back in the war? Apparently, he was one of the best there was, and I heard that from my father, *not* from Grandpa. Anyhow, the other day, Grandpa and I were talking about where I'll be going to college, and he said a couple of things... It's like he's dropping hints to tell me that he knows *something*, but I don't know if that's about our..."  
  
She paused as a group of children ran by. Hotaru had to distract Sun to keep her running off after them.  
  
Rei sighed. "It's probably nothing. He knows I have visions, and maybe he just wants to know more about that. I think my falling asleep while doing a fire reading really scared him. Still, I can't help feeling like he knows that I'm keeping a really big secret."  
  
They walked along a little further in silence, catching up enough with the others that they could hear Hotaru and ChibiUsa telling Sun all about the sorts of things they could expect to see at the festival. Sun seemed especially interested in the puppet show.  
  
"So. Are you thinking about spilling the beans about our 'extracurricular activities'?" Makoto asked.  
  
Rei thought for a minute or two before answering. "Maybe. I get the feeling that something's happening. Something big. It doesn't have a shape or a pattern that I can see--not yet, anyhow." She nodded towards the three younger girls up ahead. "It's only another four years until she'll be born, you know. At least, that's what we learned when we first heard about Crystal Tokyo." Rei took a deep breath before continuing. "When you think about it, four years isn't a very long time at all."  
  
Ami's stomach dropped as if she had just stepped out into thin air.  
  
Makoto grabbed Rei's shoulder and pulled her to a stop. "You think it's starting? Now?" she demanded.  
  
"I... I'm not sure," stammered Rei. "I just know that things are starting to change, and I'm not sure if we can--or should--stop them."  
  
For a split second, Ami thought she could see the girl Rei had been in a past life, but that echo of uncertainty disappeared as Rei took another deep, deliberate breath. "I can't tell for sure if these visions are about Crystal Tokyo, or something else entirely. I can't tell what's future and what's past."  
  
When she spoke again, Rei sounded so assured that Ami knew her thoughts were riddled with doubt. "I wish I could tell Grandpa about everything that's going on. I want to tell him about the visions, but..."  
  
Ami nodded. "Unless he knows about the Senshi, and the Moon Kingdom, nothing you tell him about your visions will make any sense." She thought about what Rei said. If Hino-san had worked in cryptography, he no doubt understood the importance of keeping certain things secret. It also meant that he knew how to look for the hidden meanings in things. "If you think he might be able to help you figure out what the visions mean, then then maybe you *should* tell him." Rei nodded, relief clear on her face. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I should." She took another deep, calming breath and steeled herself. "I'll have to let Usagi know before I say anything, but I'm going to tell him as soon as possible."  
  
# # #  
  
Sun was having a blast.  
  
Her mouth dropped open the instant she saw the streamers that hung from all the buildings and telephone poles, and it had barely closed since.  
  
Along with much of the park, several blocks had been designated as pedestrian-only for the duration of the festival. All of the shops were open, and each was bedecked with the long bundles of streamers that Ami would always associate with Tanabata.  
  
Given the number of Marfa's instructions that began "don't buy any more...," Ami steered the group away from the shops and towards the park. "The newspaper said that the puppet show started at the top of every hour. Why don't we aim for the seven o' clock show so we don't have to rush."  
  
Rushing would not have been possible in any event. Sun insisted in walking through the streamers whenever she could, letting them fall over her like rain. Ami loved the streamers, and how they symbolized the weaving that was central to the Tanabata story. She also liked the giant balloons in the shapes of different anime characters and corporate mascots, but she missed seeing some of the characters that were her favorites when she was growing up.  
  
Rei nudged Ami in the ribs, and forced her to look up at a set of phenomenally ugly balloons representing Japan's national football team.  
  
"Someday," Rei said, "many, many years in the future, there will be a festival about a fabled World Cup, and how eleven brave young men fought off army after army from other nations to bring the Cup back to Japan."  
  
"Oh, dear," said Ami. "I imagine that scholars will eventually conclude that the World Cup is some sort of fertility symbol, won't they?"  
  
"Exactly. The cup would be symbol of the water goddess Ame-No-Mi-Kumari, which would be granted to the strongest men, after a mock battle meant to show their virility. They'd interpret the goal as representing the entrance to the sacred womb, and the ball--"  
  
"Wow. You really *are* related to your grandfather, aren't you?" said Makoto.  
  
"Just for that, I won't tell you my theory about the eventual deification of David Beckham," Rei said primly.  
  
"At least tell me that in the future, he'll always be pictured shirtless."  
  
"Maybe you're *both* related to Rei's grandfather," Ami suggested innocently, earning herself a twin set of glares.  
  
"What's makes it funny is that we've seen mythical things for ourselves," said Makoto. "It was freaky doing that Greek mythology unit last quarter and seeing ChibiUsa's boyfriend--"  
  
"I don't *have* a boyfriend!" ChibiUsa called out from several yards away.  
  
"Ri-ight," said Makoto, with a dismissive wave. "You just keep telling yourself that. Anyhow, it was really weird seeing Helios' name there bold as day, and thinking 'hey, I know that guy!' Half the stuff on the handout was wrong, but I couldn't exactly tell the teacher, could I? I bet those people who study old myths are going to be in for a big surprise when Crystal Tokyo finally gets founded."  
  
Ami started to laugh, but something about the look on Rei's face cut her off.  
  
"I just hope that enough of them survive to get the joke," she said, her voice as cold as her eyes. Then she stopped, and forced a smile. "Forget I said anything. I'm just in a weird mood today. Why don't we go see if Sun wants to make a Tanabata wish."  
  
Large buckets full of the traditional bamboo branches that were still--in Ami's opinion--at the very heart of the Tanabata festival were stationed near the different entrances to the park. When she was five, the branches had seemed so *huge,* and she was always amazed at how many colored slips of paper had been tied to each branch, each slip bearing a wish. Ami remembered being astounded that it was possible for there to be so many wishes, and awed at the power it would take for each and every one of them to come true.  
  
She wondered if the Ginzuishou could channel that kind of power.  
  
Makoto looked critically at the buckets of bamboo, even running her finger over a leaf as if checking for dust. "They look kinda puny, don't they?"  
  
Ami had been trying not to think that very thing. What had once seemed like an enchanted forest now looked pretty much like stalks of bamboo stuck into plastic buckets. Nicely decorated plastic buckets, but still...  
  
"There should be more wishes hanging from them," she said.  
  
Once upon a time, or so she remembered, you could hardly see the branches for all the wishes.  
  
"It's still early," said Rei. She looked around, then headed off towards a small stand where one could buy little slips of paper. Hotaru and ChibiUsa followed her, Sun trailing after them like an eager puppy.  
  
Once a bright yellow slip of paper had been chosen and paid for, Sun leaned over to whisper a wish to Rei, who dutifully wrote it for her. Rei's handwriting was so elegant that it probably made the wish that much more likely to come true.  
  
Once Makoto had helped her tie the wish to a bamboo branch, Sun turned to the rest of the group and beamed proudly. "I wished for my stuffed Snoopy to come to life just like the Velveteen Rabbit," she announced.  
  
Then again, there were some wishes that were beyond help.  
  
"Oh, goody. Watch us wind up facing off against daimon-possessed Snoopy," Makoto muttered darkly.  
  
"Oh, dear. I really didn't need to imagine that," Ami said.  
  
"What's a Velveteen Rabbit?" ChibiUsa asked.  
  
This was greeted by a quintet of dumfounded looks.  
  
"You've never..."  
  
"Someone has to have a little talk with Usagi."  
  
"She didn't just say that, did she?"  
  
"That is *so* wrong!"  
  
ChibiUsa looked at everyone in growing confusion. Sun didn't help matters by launching into a fractured account of a beloved stuffed bunny and its desire to become real. The other four were able to chime in between breaths, and keep the story more or less on track.  
  
By the time they were done and the Velveteen Rabbit was romping through the fields with the real, live rabbits, ChibiUsa's lower lip was quivering, and she was blinking away tears.  
  
"No wonder Mama never read that story to me," she said between sniffles. "She would have been bawling her eyes out before she was halfway through."  
  
"Is your mama the Moon Princess?" Sun asked, getting it right on the first try.  
  
Makoto winced, Rei gasped, and Hotaru's eyes went as wide as golf balls. Ami floundered around to think of how to explain the situation. This was *not* the time to try to explain Crystal Tokyo. Besides, if Sun couldn't even read a watch, it was hardly likely that she could understand the concept of time travel.  
  
ChibiUsa didn't even blink.  
  
"Nah. We're just cousins. Usagi's mama is my mama's older sister."  
  
The lie came out so fluently that Ami almost believed it for a second.  
  
Sun started to ask something else, but her head shot up and she quivered like a bird-dog going on point. Then, before anyone had a chance to react, she took off like a shot into the crowd.  
  
"Fish!"  
  
Hotaru and ChibiUsa took off after her, and the others were not far behind.  
  
"'Fish?'Was that supposed to be some sort of battle-cry?" Rei panted. "Where is she going...uh-oh."  
  
Makoto slumped to a halt, eyeing the booth in front of them as if it was about to hatch out a daimon. "Shit. Marfa didn't say anything about not buying live animals, did she?"  
  
# # #  
  
7:32 p.m.  
  
Mother walked up the hill to the nursing home. The woods seemed different in the growing twilight. They felt heavier and more alive, as if an older forest from some far-off time was bleeding through in the half-light that followed sunset.  
  
She didn't like being out after the sun was hidden beneath the horizon. It made her feel too detached. Aimless. Lost.  
  
Still, even though she constantly had to fight the feeling of not being entirely in her own body, it was the best time of day to visit the nursing home. The daytime bustle would have settled into calm, softly lit routine. By seven o' clock most of the patients were sinking under the effects of their evening medication or were congregated around one of the many television sets that were as valuable as morphine for sedating the residents. The quiet of the forest path was far more vibrant than the dead calm that waited at the top of the hill.  
  
A discreetly placed lighting system lined the path, keeping it evenly and softly illuminated so that it was hard to believe the effect was thanks to electricity, wires, and photosensitive timers. It could have been--should have been--romantic, but the call to romance only made her sad. The way the light came up from the earth reminded her of snowy nights, when the snow fields reflected the soft blue light of the moon and the stars hung up above in a clear, clear sky so that she was suspended between light and light. Before that magical, ephemeral time, cold had only spoken to her of evil. It was a reminder of the barren void of space, and of the dark heart of a renegade spirit who had once tried to turn Earth into a barren ice- field.  
  
Seventy years ago, her view of cold had forever changed. Cold now meant the glow of a winter landscape, the sensuous tickle of a fur hood surrounding her face, and the electric chill that brought the pink to her cheeks. It meant the taste of hot, strong tea washing over a mouthful of cherry preserves. The thought of cold also brought with it the memory of warmth-- the warmth of the Orenburg shawl over her shoulders, the warmth of a lover's arm around her waist, the peppery warmth of vodka, and the warmth that waited at home in a feather bed.  
  
Not all her memories of snow were so soft, however. Other things had changed for her, back in the cold, by the banks of a filthy, frozen river.  
  
Sixty years ago, the cold had brought her clarity. Clarity of mind, clarity of vision, and clarity of purpose.  
  
The cold had given her the strength to do what had to be done.  
  
She bit her lips closed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Sometimes she wished she could let the cold in enough to numb the sorrow, but where would be the victory in that?  
  
At the top of the hill, she paused to look at the garden. It looked as serene and still as ever, but it did nothing to ease the trouble in her heart.  
  
When she went inside, the nurse at the front desk nodded in recognition, and started to rattle off some tale about delinquents setting off firecrackers earlier in the day.  
  
"Children these days have no concept of being respectful and considerate of their elders," she said. "Besides, why set off firecrackers so early in the day? The festival doesn't start until tonight."  
  
Mother merely shook her head and smiled in rueful sympathy. Saying anything else on the subject would only encourage this particular nurse to more chatter. "How is my grandfather today? Was he responsive at all?"  
  
The nurse sighed. "He seemed livelier early today, but he kept slipping out of Japanese. I think your visit will do him some good... oh! Don't forget to sign in!"  
  
A register was shoved across the desk, and Mother dutifully jotted down the name she'd worn for the past several years. The family name--Hasegawa--had been chosen at random from a Yokohama telephone directory. She didn't look or sound Japanese, so she'd taken Renata as her given name. It was easy to convert to hiragana, didn't lend itself to *too* many mispronunciations, and it had long been something of a joke between her and her husband. Neither of them was overly fond of Prokofiev, but the temptation to use a name of the lead character in "The Fiery Angel" was too much to resist.  
  
When she went upstairs, she left that name behind along with the pretense of being anyone's 'granddaughter.' She passed a couple of attendants in the hallway, but they barely acknowledged her. Ever since her 'grandfather' had moved in, Mother had become a familiar presence in that place.  
  
In was only recently that the staff had begun to notice that she was becoming a little less familiar, her visits a little less frequent. They had been gentle about pointing it out, but they also acknowledged that her grandfather was not the same man he'd been when he first arrived.  
  
Over the past two years, with frightening speed, his mind had stripped itself clean of nearly everything that had made him Semyon. She did not understand what was happening, why it was happening, or how to stop it. The doctors called it 'senile dementia.' They weren't sure what caused it, and there were too few ways to alleviate the symptoms. All the doctors really knew was how to keep him safe and reasonably comfortable.  
  
All *she* knew was that no mortal deserved to suffer such a fate.  
  
There was little left in that bed that said that this man was once Semyon Fyodorovich Renko. The barrel-like chest now resembled a birdcage wrapped in old rags. The once strong arms were now more like withered reeds, spotted with permanent bruises from the IVs and the constant blood tests. She leaned forward to kiss his papery cheek, forcing herself not to retch at the smell.  
  
In the new world she dreamed of, old age would never desecrate another human being ever again.  
  
Before the war, Semyon had once plowed a half-acre all by himself, pushing the plow rather than using the oxen, all on a foolish bet. When he was done, he took the prize--a bottle of vodka--and he and the man who'd made the bet got gloriously drunk together.  
  
Now, it was a Herculean effort for him to remain awake for twenty minutes at a time.  
  
Thinking back on that stupid bet, Mother regretted making him sleep out in the barn that night. At the time she was angry with him and didn't want to wake up next to a hungover husband, but now all she could see was one less night she'd been able to spend with him.  
  
Eventually, he became aware that she was in the room with him. His eyes fluttered open. "Ah, my fiery angel," he whispered.  
  
"Hello, love. How are you today?"  
  
"Well enough," he said testily. "Well enough. Did anyone see you come in?"  
  
She shook her head. As far as he was concerned, the doctors and attendants did not exist.  
  
"Good. Good. I worry for you, you know. Those Germans, they're like *foxes*," he spat. "Filthy, thieving foxes!"  
  
She took his hand in hers and held it gently--he bruised so easily now. Eventually, his fit of rage died down, but Mother's heart still ached. More and more these days, Semyon was living in 1942.  
  
"I worry that they...the things that they do to the women..." He started weeping, softly and soundlessly.  
  
She put a little more pressure on his hand, just to remind him that she was there, and that she was safe. "Semsha, do you think that I'd *let* them?"  
  
His chest shook, but it was with laughter. "No, you'd send them straight to hell, wouldn't you, my angel?"  
  
"Oh! A good Party member does not believe in hell *or* in angels, Semsha!" she exclaimed. "I shall have to file a report with the political officer, you know." She was relieved to hear his dry chuckle. Even though Semyon was slipping away from her, he still responded to their old jokes.  
  
His mind had retreated to a time when they were in a war as bitter as anything Mother had ever seen, even during that terrible time when Chaos raged across the universe, tearing a great rift in the fabric of time and reality.  
  
The war she had fought alongside Semyon was on a much smaller scale in terms of the history of the universe, but it weighed far heavier on her soul. Every day, another friend of theirs was killed, or maimed, or succumbed to starvation or illness. The sounds of gunfire had become such a constant that young children barely flinched at the sound any more. She remembered how they almost looked *forward* to the times whey they had to fight for their lives, since the panic and urgency would take their minds off the constant cold and hunger, and the storm of adrenaline would make them feel alive.  
  
It had been hell, she reflected. But for some reason, she remembered it as one of the happiest times of her life.  
  
"You burned them up," he babbled. "You burned them up like so many matches, my Serafima, my fiery angel." Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Beautiful, so beautiful..."  
  
His hand clutched at hers with surprising strength. Startled, she looked into his eyes, something she rarely did any more. Age had clouded over the warm brown, turning it a murky gray. It was just one more thing that reminded her of how little of Semyon was truly left in there.  
  
"We must... we must save the Motherland... the Nazis... they can never take it!"  
  
"They won't," she said with conviction. She had seen their failure with her own eyes. "We burned--we will burn the fields and sow them with salt. We will butcher the livestock and raze the villages. They have come so far in that the winter will trap them like rats, just as it did to that arrogant Frenchman. They will freeze, and the cold will purify the land."  
  
She had learned a valuable lesson back then. Sometimes, if you were truly desperate to save something, you had to be willing to destroy it utterly.  
  
Semyon laughed, or perhaps it was only a dry cough. "I don't care what you say, angel, but I know that you *were* around to help us against Bonaparte. You can deny it all you want, but I *know*."  
  
She smiled, even as tears stung her eyes. Her husband had always refused to believe that she had awoken to this strange, new, and violent world in 1908. She only knew of Napoleon from history books, the same as anyone else in the twentieth century.  
  
"You are ageless! Beautiful! *Skaska*--a miracle!" he would protest, arms thrown open wide in his exuberance. "You made Helen of Troy and Cleopatra and the Queen of Sheba green with envy! You are more beautiful than... than... Betty Grable!"  
  
He had been a simple man, but a good man, and fierce as a lion in battle. Now, his babbling reminded her of the chirping of a cricket in late fall. She, however remained as fresh as the dawn, clear-eyed and rosy cheeked.  
  
She leaned forward once more, this time kissing him softly on the lips. There was no need to tell him that it was for the last time. There was no reason to tell him that the horrible act that weighed so heavily on his good, kind soul for all these years may have been for nothing.  
  
He would die believing they had won, and with any luck, it would not be a lie.  
  
She took the rose from her purse and laid it on his chest. He sighed in pleasure as the smell filled the room. There were so few things he could enjoy any more. She could at least let him have this one last good thing in his life. Besides, the scent of this particular rose would ease many kinds of pain.  
  
He was still smiling blissfully when she reached out and covered his mouth with her palm and gently pinched his nose shut between her thumb and forefinger.  
  
The monitors shrieked out an alarm, and the attendants would be rushing in at any moment now. No matter. There was nothing they could do. She sat quietly by Semyon's side as if she heard nothing at all. This part of her life was over, now. It was nothing more than ash.  
  
She felt her power flowing out of her with her grief, but she didn't care. She heard the screams of pain from the attendants who had unwisely tried to push open the door to Semyon's room, but still she didn't care. White-hot ash swirled around her like a blizzard from long ago, in a time she would always remember as more innocent. She could no longer hear any screams through the roar of heat and flame.  
  
Semyon had died for a greater cause, she told herself, but it still hurt. No one had ever told her it would hurt this much. She tried to tell herself that the man she loved had died many years ago, but she could not make herself believe it.  
  
It was only when the body had burned completely away that she finally allowed herself to cry--huge, wrenching sobs that stung more than the smoke of the burning building. As her tears ran out, the raging fire of first grief settled and became cool once more.  
  
It wasn't until she heard the sound of the approaching fire engines that she finally got up. As she stood, her chair fell apart into a cloud of fine white ash.  
  
For just a little while, she indulged her imagination, and for one precious moment, Semyon Fyodorovich Renko and Serafima Renkova held hands and looked up at the falling snow.  
  
It was over much too quickly.  
  
She walked out of the swirling ashes, covered in soot and embers, and wandered into the forest, just as she had wandered out of a Siberian forest nearly a century ago, burned and burning.  
  
She had gone from heat to cold, cold to heat, and now back to cold again. Maybe now, maybe this time, things would finally end and she could be at peace.  
  
# # #  
  
Delays, delays, delays: I wish I could post these things faster, really I do. Unfortunately, life--in the form of a new house and other responsibilities--keeps getting in the way.  
  
Note to my readers. Feel free to read and review some of my other fic as well. This message brought to you by the Department of Shameless Self- Promotion.  
  
Tanabata scene: If you have not read "The Velveteen Rabbit," do so immediately. Bring Kleenex. "Spottie Dottie" is an adorably cute dalmatian puppy with a pink dress and hairbow, brought to you by Sanrio, the folks responsible for unleashing "Hello Kitty" upon the world. David Beckham is an adorably cute and internationally famous soccer player, brought to you by Manchester United, the folks responsible for unleashing a large number of drunken soccer fans upon the world. Ame-No-Mi-Kumari is a Shinto water goddess who may or may not have been adorably cute, and who as far as I know has not unleashed anything or signed any licensing agreements.  
  
Mother's visit to the nursing home: Information for the second scene came from William Craig's wonderful and devastating book, "Enemy at the Gates," and from Galina Khmeleva's book on Orenburg lace. Military history and knitting--signs that I either have very diverse interests or really need to get a life. 


	14. Reader's Guide

EMPIRE OF THE SUN  
  
Chapters One through Ten  
  
Character Guide and Chapter Summaries  
  
Who's Who (besides the characters you know well enough already). Some characters are from "Homicide: Life on the Streets" and/or "Law & Order."  
  
PRESENT DAY TOKYO  
  
TAIYOUKO SEIDOU: A forty-something homicide detective in Tokyo. In 1987, she was farmed out to an outlying district to help investigate a suspicious- looking auto accident. In 2001, she is reassigned to the case, and quickly discovers that the case is far more complicated than she thought.  
  
JASON WRIGHT: A homicide detective from Baltimore, Maryland. He grew up near the U.S. Navy base in Yokosuka, and moved back to the States when he was ten, after the death of his father. He returns to Japan in 2001 as part of a law-enforcement educational program, but he also has a personal agenda.  
  
MELDRICK LEWIS: Another detective from Baltimore, and Jason's current partner.  
  
SAILOR SUN: A new Senshi who first appears as she spies on the other Senshi, trying to learn more about them. Her main attack ("Plasma Flare") is a percussive burst of super-heated air. Although she appears to be in her late teens, her mental age seems to be closer to five or six. Her civilian identity is thus far unknown.  
  
KEISUKE TAKAMORI: Seidou's partner. He is the more level-headed of the two, and is good at doing the more tedious parts of detective work. He is married to Akiko, and has four young children--Misako, Daisuke, Satoru, and Megumi. Jason is staying with him while in Tokyo.  
  
KENICHI HARADA: Seidou's boss. His goal is to become Chief of Police, and he appears to be working with someone who has his or her own reason for re- opening the case that was closed in 1987.  
  
GOLEMS: The new enemy. They are lumpy mud-men whose basic strategy of attack is along the lines of "Hulk Smash!"  
  
"MOTHER": Sailor Sun's mentor and caretaker. She seems to have a fair amount of knowledge about the Silver Millennium.  
  
"THE LURKER": The voice in Seidou's head. It seems to have some agenda related to the fall of the Silver Millennium. It has a semi-adversarial relationship with Seidou. In an odd turn of events, it seems that Seidou is driving the voices in her head crazy rather than the other way around.  
  
KATHY CELESTE: A Canadian folk-musician and friend of Michiru's.  
  
SEMYON RENKO: Former Soviet citizen who now has Japanese citizenship. The person who called in the crash that killed Mamoru's parents, and the current main suspect in the crime. At the time the story takes place, he is in a nursing home in Kamakura.  
  
BARBARA HAVERS: A Detective-Constable with Scotland yard, and an old friend of Seidou's.  
  
S.C. ELLWOOD: Someone in England whom Jason is trying to contact. Ellwood was the victim of an assault/kidnapping that was kept out of the British press.  
  
ANITA VAN BUREN: A New York City police Lieutenant, and another old friend of Seidou's.  
  
MICHAEL KELLERMAN: A former homicide and arson detective from Baltimore, Maryland.  
  
LUTHER MAHONEY: A drug kingpin from Baltimore.  
  
KAKOS: A frog-like monster with a skin made of thousands of living insects. He is the one responsible for crafting the golems.  
  
SKOTOS: A living shadow who works with Kakos.  
  
"JUNIOR" BUNK: Luther Mahoney's nephew.  
  
STEVE CROSETTI: A homicide detective from Baltimore (deceased)  
  
BEAU FELTON: A homicide detective from Baltimore (deceased)  
  
JACOB "JAKE" WRIGHT: Jason's older brother by only eleven months. He was a fireman, and was killed in the line of duty in early 1999.  
  
AL GIARDELLO: Jason's former Lieutenant back in Baltimore.  
  
FRANK PEMBLETON: Another member of the Baltimore homicide squad.  
  
MICHEL CELESTE: A Canadian citizen who met Jason in the Toronto airport when Jason was going to Japan in early 1998. According to the RCMP, Jason was the last person to see Celeste before he disappeared.  
  
SILVER MILLENNIUM CHARACTERS  
  
DELPHINE: One of the Horae (a term which is unexplained at this point). She appears have been a giant winged serpent, and was close to Queen Serenity and the infant Princess Serenity at one point.  
  
LAMIA: "Lady of the Oceans," and ancestor of various sorts of water-people, including the Silver Millennium Sailor Mercury and Sailor Neptune.  
  
ROSAMUND: "Lady of the Green," Queen of Earth, and Endymion's mother.  
  
EUNOMIA: A trio of powerful beings who were associated with the Sun and who acted as judges and executioners. The members of the Eunomia were:  
  
1. HYPERION: "Truth." The only male member of the Eunomia, and  
Princess Serenity's father.  
  
2. ASTRAEA: "Justice." One of the Eunomia. Ami points out that the  
name is the same as that of the Greek goddess of justice.  
  
3. ANANKE: "Necessity." The oldest and harshest of the Eunomia.  
  
EGERIA: The Silver Millennium Sailor Mercury.  
  
LARES: Lord of Mercury and Egeria's father.  
  
NERISSA: A water nymph from Earth. Egeria's mother.  
  
IKARUS TALUSIDHIS: A Shaper (telekinetic) from Earth who was working to find water on Mercury. He was the elder brother of one of the Shitennou, and was Egeria's lover.  
  
DEMETER: Ruler of Saturn. She was married to the brother of Earth's king, and was the mother of Kaia.  
  
KAIA: The Silver Millennium Saturn, and a first-cousin to Prince Endymion.  
  
BASILIUS, THORN, and CERELIA: Various Silver Millennium personalities who were known to Setsuna's past self. Nothing is known about them other than the fact that Thorn and Cerelia have some connection with Earth. Also, Cerelia was a friend of Egeria's who collaborated with her on terraforming projects.  
  
HARMONIA: The Silver Millennium Sailor Mars. She was less self-assured and forceful than the present-day Mars.  
  
KYTHERIA: The Silver Millennium Sailor Venus. Nothing else is known about her at this point.  
  
Chapter Summaries:  
  
Prologue:  
  
The prologue takes place sometime after the main events of the story. Not much happens except that there's a wedding. Still, you may want to check to see which Senshi are clearly alive vs. those whose survival may be in doubt. Or not. It's your call.  
  
Chapter One: Convergence  
  
ChibiUsa has returned from the 30th century for her and Usagi's birthday.  
  
Taiyouko revisits the site where Mamoru's parents died in a car crash fourteen years ago. She had an odd reaction at the time, while investigating the case, as if some other being inside her head was hounding her about solving the case.  
  
Usagi's surprise party goes well. ChibiUsa has brought two gifts from the future. One of these gifts is an elaborately jeweled egg. No one can figure out what it does, so they figure that it's just an expensive knick-knack.  
  
Jason Wright leaves Baltimore for Tokyo. This section is mainly basic character exposition, but it also makes clear that Jason has an unofficial agenda for this trip.  
  
An unknown person (later revealed to be Sailor Sun) is spying on the Senshi, using a crystal that shows each Senshi's signature color. Sun only recognizes the colors of the four Inner Senshi, and is disturbed when the crystal turns solid black in response to Pluto. She then hurries off to report to "Mother" that she may have found the Moon Princess.  
  
Chapter Two: A Backwards Glance  
  
Rei does a fire reading after reading a puzzling note in her dream journal. She has an intense series of visions and nearly falls into the fire. A bit of ash from the fire forms the sign for Mars on her forehead.  
  
Usagi and ChibiUsa have their birthday breakfast in bed. Usagi tries to send her future self a mental note to change one of her birthday gifts. It doesn't work. She is experiencing a fair amount of doubt and anguish about the future she learned about at the end of the "Stars" arc.  
  
Taiyouko and her partner, Keisuke, are gathering information on the murder case involving Mamoru's parents. They are approached by Mamoru's old friend, Saori (who appeared during the Dead Moon Circus arc in the anime). Meanwhile, Taiyouko's boss gets a call from someone who a) wanted the case re-opened, and b) has a personal stake in the matter. The apparent reason for re-opening the case is to gain someone's attention, not necessarily to solve the case.  
  
Saori tells Mamoru that his name has come up in connection with a murder case. He tries to blow it off until she tells him that if the detectives snoop around too much, they might discover something about the Sailor Senshi.  
  
Jason arrives in Japan, and appears to be having some serious second thoughts about his unofficial plans.  
  
Michiru has a vivid dream about visiting Neptune Castle as it was in the Silver Millennium. At one point in the dream, she is distracted by a voice that then leads her through a door. The dream switches to a beach scene, and in the dream, Michiru takes a boat out into the ocean to meet someone.  
  
Chapter Three: Drawing on the Past  
  
Ami has a vivid dream about her past self as a child on the planet Mercury. She learns that her old self's mother was some sort of water nymph/spirit/whatever you want to call it. There are references to "the Eunomia," "sealing," "Rhea," and other things that don't mean anything to her, yet that sound familiar. We also meet Ikarus Talusidhis, an Earth man who was helping to find underground water deposits on Mercury. At this point, Mercury's former self appeared to view him as a beloved older brother.  
  
Venus is also dreaming, but her dream is a bit more abstract. One thing she sees is a tall bronze figure with three faces that strikes her in the forehead with a spear.  
  
Taiyouko goes to the police firing range to blow off steam and to demonstrate to the reader her Mary-Sueish talent of perfect aim.  
  
Usagi and Minako go to a manga-drawing workshop, and while debating the wisdom of writing a story based on their Senshi adventures, wind up drawing the same set of seven characters. Usagi also manages to out Kunzite and Zoisite to Minako.  
  
Taiyouko calls Mamoru to set up an interview about the accident. Both are a bit unsettled by this, Mamoru much more so than Taiyouko.  
  
Chapter Four: Intersections  
  
Jason wakes up to find that he has trashed his hotel room during the night via telekinesis. He gets ready for his first day with the Tokyo police, and thinks about the people he's hoping to find while in Tokyo.  
  
Hotaru is attacked by a golem as she is walking to school. It's a close fight, and Hotaru (as Sailor Saturn) is badly injured. Her Silence Wall has no effect on the creature, but when she smashes it in the head with the Silence Glaive, it falls to bits.  
  
Jason is assigned to work with Taiyouko. Taiyouko's boss wants them to work on the Chiba case, and seems surprised and relived when Taiyouko doesn't give him a hard time about this.  
  
Sailor Saturn tells Haruka about the attack, and the two of them have a little spat as attitudes clash.  
  
Sailor Sun has trailed Artemis to Mamoru's apartment building and is waiting outside.  
  
Usagi and the others who go to Juuban high discuss the dreams they've been having. Makoto is the only one who has not had any dreams.  
  
Taiyouko, Keisuke, and Jason go over the details of the Chiba case.  
  
Taiyouko and Jason interview Mamoru. Mamoru hears for the first time that his parents were murdered, rather than dying in a simple accident.  
  
Chapter Five: Lies, Denials, and Other Evasions  
  
The Senshi team meets at the Hikawa shrine. Hotaru describes the thing (Ami and Setsuna identify it as a golem) that attacked her. When they talk about dreams, it turns out that all of the Inner Senshi (except Makoto) have had dreams of the past. Setsuna, Hotaru, and Haruka say that they haven't had any dreams. Michiru denies having had any dreams of the past, but Haruka seems to doubt this. Setsuna identifies the seven characters drawn by Usagi and Minako: Rosamund (queen of Earth and Endymion's mother), Queen Serenity, Lamia (ruler of the oceans), Delphine (a winged serpent, and advisor to Queen Serenity), Hyperion (Princess Serenity's father, and one of the Eunomia, the one who determined guilt), Astraea (another of the Eunomia, the one who decreed the sentence), and Ananke (the last of the Eunomia, the one who punished the guilty).  
  
After their interview with Mamoru, Taiyouko mentions that one of the girls in Mamoru's pictures lives in her apartment building. Jason and Taiyouko agree that he acts like he's hiding something. Taiyouko also gets the feeling that Jason is hiding something as well, but agrees to use her connections with Scotland Yard to help locate an old friend of his in England. She begins to realize that this nagging feeling is more like another person in her mind. Jason stops a purse snatcher with his telekinesis. Sailor Sun, who was watching Mamoru's building, sees this and goes back to tell "Mother."  
  
Artemis and Mamoru talk about what the two detectives revealed. Mamoru is in a serious state of denial, and acts as if he would rather *not* know the truth of what happened. He calls Usagi and arranges to meet her at the Hikawa Shrine. Mamoru downplays what he heard, never mentioning the word "murder," and insisting that there is no way that the investigation could be connected either to the golems or to the dreams that some of the others have had.  
  
Michiru goes to bed, eager to retreat into an ocean dreamworld.  
  
Taiyouko attempts to confront the voice in her head. It doesn't say much, but shows her a vision of destruction before trying to push the whole confrontation from her mind.  
  
Setsuna thinks about the Silver Millennium, finding that she remembers more than she thought she did. A news clip shows footage of a "Sailor Sun," and Setsuna is freaked out about the idea of such a Senshi, partially because of the Sun's association with the Eunomia, and partially because of overexposure to badfic.  
  
Chapter Six: Falling  
  
Michiru is having increasingly vivid dreams of swimming through the depths of the ocean. There is someone or something she is trying to find. Haruka suspects that Michiru is holding something back from her.  
  
That morning at school, Makoto and Minako agree to a "girl's night out." Ami receives a love-letter, and is sent home due to the resulting rash. She decides to check out the site where Hotaru was attacked, and discovers several crystals in the golem's remains. The crystals turn slightly blue when she gets near them, so she takes them home for further study.  
  
Artemis meets Usagi after school, and fills her in on what Mamoru *didn't* tell her about the meeting with the detectives. He says that something about what the detectives said scared Mamoru half to death. He also says that the detectives were pretty blunt about saying that Mamoru's parents were deliberately murdered.  
  
Minako and Makoto's "girl's night out" turns out to be going out in Senshi form, looking for trouble and having fun with their powers. Venus seems to remember a couple of random facts about her past life, but they shrug this off as they help a couple who are being mugged.  
  
Ami has another dream about her past life, but this time she's older and is a Sailor Senshi. She talks with the Silver Millennium Mars about the lack of communication from Earth. Mars is worried about Jadeite (and Ami is *very* surprised to learn that Mars and Jadeite used to be an item), while Ami's past self worries about a friend of hers named Cerelia. Ami is even more surprised to find out that her past self and Ikarus were lovers.  
  
Jason and Keisuke check out the scene of the accident/murder. They determine that not only was the brake line cut, the Chibas' car was most likely forced off the road by another vehicle. They also discuss the thoroughness with which the victims' identities were erased. The case is becoming much more complicated than they first thought.  
  
Chapter Seven: Recognition  
  
While waiting to testify at a trial, Taiyouko has another confrontation with the "lurker" in her mind. She realizes that Jason recognized Mamoru, along with some people in the pictures, but said nothing. The lurker also points out that Taiyouko knows another one of the people in Mamoru's pictures--Usagi Tsukino. Taiyouko decides that she's going to find out a bit more about Jason, and arranges for him to come by her building that afternoon.  
  
Jason goes to Taiyouko's building, but ends up at Makoto's apartment (as Taiyouko had intended). They hit it off well, but the moment is ruined when Ami and Rei show up. Jason starts acting very nervous at this point, and hurries off to Taiyouko's apartment. It turns out later that the entire meeting is recorded by a security camera, and Taiyouko later gets the tape and studies it.  
  
ChibiUsa and Hotaru are hanging out together, listening to some music. Elsewhere in the house, Setsuna is steeling herself to talk about some unpleasant facts about the Silver Millennium Pluto. The three of them wind up outside. Hotaru is having a bit of a meltdown over her role as the Senshi of Silence. Setsuna tries to comfort her, and says that the role of destroyer was imposed on Saturn by the Eunomia, and that there is much more to Saturn than destruction, even if they don't yet know what that is.  
  
Mercury and Venus are on a "girl's night out." They encounter a trio of golems in a junkyard *and* get to meet Sailor Sun. Sun's dramatic entrance is somewhat ruined by the fact that she acts like a blithering idiot.  
  
Chapter Eight: Past Imperfect  
  
It turns out that Jason was quite badly rattled by seeing Ami and Rei, and that he recognized them as Mercury and Mars. He reacts to his shock in a mature manner, namely by staying up until 3 a.m. and getting drunk.  
  
Ami calls Usagi and tells her about the golem attack and about Sailor Sun. Usagi then gets another call, this time from Taiyouko, who turns out to be an old friend of her mother's. Usagi then calls Mamoru, who still refuses to believe that this is any more than coincidence.  
  
Back at the police station, Jason, Keisuke, and Taiyouko go over what they've learned. The man who called in to report the "accident" had a car that matches the paint scrapings from the vehicle that went over the cliff. It also turns out that the man (Semyon Renko) is a former Soviet citizen who has somehow managed to finagle full Japanese citizenship. Also, the first orphanage Mamoru was sent to doesn't seem to exist, and there is no record of its ever having existed. Taiyouko catches Saori looking through the case files, and not-so-subtly blackmails her into using her friendship with Mamoru to gather information.  
  
The Senshi meet to discuss the new girl. Setsuna explains that there was never meant to be a Sailor Sun. ChibiUsa and Diana let slip that there isn't any such person in the future. Setsuna offers more details about the time before the Silver Millennium. Luna remembers some odd details about waking in the 20th century. When the talk turns to the golems, Ami reveals that the crystals she found are the same structure as the Ginzuishou, but they have no energy of their own. The Senshi are puzzled about why Mercury's and Venus's attacks could stop the golems, but Saturn's couldn't. While talking about Sailor Sun, Setsuna says that it would have taken a crisis on the level of Galaxia for the Eunomia to have made such a Senshi. This upsets Usagi, who runs out into the shrine's courtyard.  
  
Luna and ChibiUsa follow Usagi, and are surprised to find that rather than being scared, Usagi is dealing with the shock that *she* was able to deal with a threat that the Eunomia would have considered to be nearly unbeatable, and come through it all more or less unscathed. Usagi is both rattled and comforted by this realization.  
  
In the wee hours of the morning, Taiyouko gets an email from her Scotland Yard contact about the person Jason was trying to find--S.C. Ellwood. Ellwood appeared to be the victim of kidnapping and assault some three years back--around the same time as Jason's disappearance--but the investigation was dropped and details kept out of the press. Taiyouko also receives information on Jason from a friend in the NYPD. It turns out that Jason was involved in the execution-style killing of a Baltimore drug dealer a little over three years ago, and that he has had several official reprimands for use of excessive force. Indications were that he pulled some strings to get into the exchange program that brought him to Tokyo.  
  
Later that morning, Michiru summons her Mirror, only to find that it now appears in a style a good century or two older than its usual Art Nouveau appearance. It is now clear that she is consciously not telling Haruka and the others about her dreams.  
  
The next scene introduces Mother. She worries about Sun's upcoming meeting with the other Senshi. Her dealings with Sun appear to be firm, patient, and affectionate.  
  
Another introduction, this time of Kakos and Skotos. They are the ones who make the golems. Skotos has brought some special crystals for the next batch of golems, but neither creature knows what the crystals are for.  
  
Chapter Nine: Hidden Agendas  
  
Saori calls Mamoru to ask him some questions. Keisuke listens in to the conversation. She finds out quite a bit more about the first boy's home he was sent to after his parents' death, along with some clues that help her and Keisuke figure out roughly where it is.  
  
Makoto goes out to the park to shoot some hoops, and runs into Jason. As before, they hit it off well. Jason admits that he's one of the detectives who spoke to Mamoru, and the two trade information--up to a point. Jason then invites Makoto out to dinner. The date goes well, and they make plans to get together later that weekend.  
  
Mamoru has a dream about nearly dying in the car accident that turns into a dream about nearly being killed by Jadeite.  
  
Early the next morning, Rei has a *horrible* dream about being strangled to death. She wakes into another dream in which insects are covering her walls and trying to get down her throat. She wakes up and winds up having a long talk with her grandfather about her future.  
  
Later that morning, Ikuko tells Usagi that her old friend Taiyouko would like to meet her. Ikuko then tells Usagi that Taiyouko had saved her life when a robber attacked her. Since Ikuko was heavily pregnant with Usagi at the time, that means that Taiyouko had saved *both* of their lives.  
  
Jason and Taiyouko head out to Kamakura to talk to Semyon Renko, who is a resident of a posh nursing home.  
  
Usagi and Mamoru meet with Rei, who says that her Tarot readings indicate that Taiyouko and Jason are *very* much involved in what's going on with the Senshi. She also indicates that with the exception of Usagi's link to him, Mamoru is psychically "invisible."  
  
Chapter Ten: Fallen Heroes  
  
Rei shows the other Senshi an image that Ami captured of one of the golems that Mercury and Venus fought the other day. A few--but not all--of the Senshi think the mark on the golem's forehead looks familiar, but cannot remember where they've seen it before. Mercury arrives with Sailor Sun, and introductions are made. Sun is upset that Sailor Pluto is there, and keeps on saying that Pluto is supposed to be at the Gates of Time.  
  
On the walk up to the nursing home, the Lurker goads Taiyouko into confronting Jason about his record. Before anything can be resolved, the two of them are attacked by golems. Jason seems to change appearance, but is struck down by a blinding headache when he tries to fight off the golems. Taiyouko is able to destroy all but one by shooting them in their forehead marks. The remaining golem chases the two detectives over a cliff.  
  
During the meeting with Sun, the others find that she doesn't seem to have a civilian identity. Hotaru and ChibiUsa are quick to befriend Sun, and invite her to the Tanabata celebration the following evening. Before she leaves, Tuxedo Kamen gives Sun a rose.  
  
Jason uses his telekinesis to save himself and Taiyouko. Far from being rattled by their near escape, Taiyouko continues to question Jason about his involvement in the drug-dealer's death. She also doesn't seem to react when Jason tells her that Mamoru is the reincarnation of Earth's rightful ruler. They disable the last golem and go back to their car. Unbeknownst to them, Kakos was watching from some nearby woods. Unlike other villains we could name, Kakos actually checks to verify that the two were killed. Upon finding out they weren't, he immediately communicates that fact to his boss.  
  
Sun returns to Mother and gets permission to go to the festival with the other Senshi. She shows Tuxedo Kamen's rose to Mother, who is badly shaken by its appearance.  
  
Jason tells Taiyouko more of his own story, including his involvement in the shooting of Luther Mahoney. During his subsequent suspension and near nervous breakdown, he got a sudden compulsion to visit Japan. Apparently, he only made it as far as Toronto before vanishing for seven weeks. He reappeared in Norfolk, VA, suffering from exposure and shock, and with no memory of anything that happened after Toronto. Jason's memories of those seven weeks stayed buried until he flatlined after being shot in the chest. Along with those missing weeks, he also gained an entire lifetime of memories from a past life. During his brief death, Jason was challenged in a vision to correct an ancient wrong and solve an ancient murder. Taiyouko believes Jason, much to his surprise, and tells him about the "Lurker."  
  
Here's hoping that this helps and doesn't simply confuse matters! 


	15. Markings

Empire of the Sun

by Sophia Prester

Disclaimer and Author's Notes: No ownership, no profit. Please don't sue. Ta, ever so. Notes are at the end, as per usual. PG-13 for some language, some violence. Heck, you'd probably see worse on prime-time TV.

Chapter Twelve: Markings

* * *

Saturday, July 7, 7:45 p.m.

"I don't care if you can pay for another turn or not! Her being here is bad for business. This is her last turn and that's all there is to it."

If Sun heard what the woman who ran the fish-catching booth had said, it didn't bother her. She was too busy chasing after a fat red-and-black spotted goldfish. In fact, she was so intent on her prey that she didn't notice that her flimsy paper net had fallen into tatters.

Hotaru glared at the pinch-faced woman, attempting to project through sheer force of will the power she wielded as the Senshi of Silence, the Destroyer of Worlds, the one being in the universe you would not under _any_ circumstances want to piss off.

Hotaru knew that when the part of her that was Saturn rose up from within, the look in her eyes could give even Setsuna serious pause.

She had a nasty feeling, though, that whenever she tried to generate that look on command she only ended up looking petulant.

"I understand," Ami said, bowing stiffly but politely as she addressed the booth owner. "I apologize for any trouble we may have caused. Hotaru-chan, why don't you and the others find us seats for the next puppet-show. I'll stay here and settle up."

Unlike Hotaru, the Senshi of Ice had no trouble putting her own particular power into her voice.

Hotaru wanted to get off a caustic comment or some cutting remark, but Makoto and Rei hustled her, Sun, and ChibiUsa away before she could think of anything clever. Hotaru and Rei kept firm hold of Sun's hands as they wove through the crowd of parents and children who were waiting their turn at the booth. Some parents glared at the quintet and held their children back protectively, as if Sun's condition was contagious. On the other hand, there were a good number of sympathetic looks as well. One father even told his son, in tones clearly meant to be overheard by anyone who cared to listen, that they were not going to do business with anyone who treated children so rudely.

It wasn't as satisfying as her fantasy of scaring the crap out of that stuck-up old woman, but it was something, Hotaru told herself.

Once they were clear of the crowd, Hotaru let loose with her grumble. "I wish Ami-san hadn't sent us away like that. I wanted to tell that old witch exactly what I thought about her."

"Hotaru-chan..." Rei warned.

"If she was losing business, it was her fault! People didn't start leaving the line until she started trying to get Sun to hurry up and get out of there."

Rei refused to sympathize. "It wouldn't have done any good to tell her that. All you would have done was shown everyone that you could be just as rude as she was."

"Tell you the truth, I wouldn't have minded taking a swing at her," said Makoto. "It wouldn't have helped, but it would have made me feel a _lot_ better."

"It's nice to know that you both have such a mature attitude about it," Rei snapped. "Does the phrase 'choose your battles' have any meaning for either one of you?"

"It's not like we actually did anything," Hotaru complained.

"But you would have."

Hotaru rolled her eyes. "Forget about it, okay? Just forget I said anything."

Great. Now Rei thought she was being a brat. By the time summer was out, no doubt _all_ the Senshi would hate her. It didn't help matters any that Hotaru was upset at herself for being upset in the first place. Not for the first time, one verse from the Christian scriptures ran through her head: "For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do."

She wasn't clear on the context of that particular verse, but the way it so clearly described her state of mind had caused her to commit it to memory.

She looked over at ChibiUsa, who was talking in low, earnest tones to Sun, trying to get the other girl's mind off the fact that they had left the booth without obtaining the desired goldfish.

The Hotaru she wanted to be would have been right there, trying to comfort the other girl, but instead she was wasting all this time being angry.

Well, she thought, better late then never. She ran to catch up with Sun and ChibiUsa, who had somehow managed to get a little ways ahead of them.

From the sound of things, Sun had forgotten all about the fish.

"...and then I had a stuffed dog that Uncle Misha got me that's blue with white spots and a pink ribbon and I burned it up by accident not on purpose and I kept hoping and I even said a prayer but it didn't come back all alive and real the way the Velveteen Rabbit did after it was burned but it was okay because Uncle Misha got me another dog and he wasn't mad at me but he told me I had to be more careful..."

ChibiUsa nodded sympathetically while at the same time rolling her eyes meaningfully at Hotaru.

Hotaru grinned. Maybe it was okay to be a little bratty from time to time. It was also okay to be frustrated by the new girl's odd behavior, but Hotaru was bound and determined never to take it out on her.

Not like _some_ people she could think of, she told herself with a small sniffle.

Sun was still mid-monologue when they heard Ami shouting for them. Both Hotaru and ChibiUsa turned, half-crouching, Hotaru looking for Ami while ChibiUsa looked all around for any threats.

"Over here!" Ami called out. She was running towards them, waving one hand over her head and grinning widely. By that time, Makoto and Rei had caught up with them.

"Shoot! I thought that something had attacked," Makoto grumbled. "Nice false alarm!" she said once Ami reached the group.

"I'm sorry!" Ami panted. She took a moment to catch her breath, then pulled her purse open a little bit so Hotaru and Makoto could look inside to see the water-filled plastic bag.

"Way to go, Ami-chan," Makoto crowed. "How did you get it? You didn't pay that old hag for it, did you?"

Ami shook her head. "I found a different booth, and took my turn like everyone else."

"How many turns did it take?" Hotaru asked. She had never had any luck using the little paper nets to flip a goldfish out of the water.

"Just one," Ami said. There was more than hint of smugness in her voice.

Makoto and Rei stared at her for a moment as comprehension dawned.

"You didn't..." Rei gasped.

"You big cheater," Makoto said with admiration. "Good for you!"

Sun, as usual, looked confused.

"Sailor Mercury is the Senshi of Water, remember?" ChibiUsa said.

Sun looked even more confused. "I don't get it. What happened?"

"What happened," said Ami, pulling the bag out of her purse, "is that I went back and got you your fish."

A red and black fish churned its fins frantically, trying to stay in one place as the bag was sloshed and tipped. Hotaru thought the bulbous eyes made the fish look like a caricature of panic.

"He's adorable!" she said, laughing.

Sun yelped in sheer delight and reached out to grab the bag. Ami took a step back and stood firm in the face of Sun's disappointment.

"You'll have to be careful," she said sternly. "You can't shake the bag too much, or squeeze it too hard."

"I'll be careful! I promise!" She reached for the bag again, and, after a moment's careful thought, Ami shrugged and handed it over.

Sun turned the bag around and around with exaggerated care, growling softly with frustration as the fish didn't turn with the bag. Finally, she just held the bag right up to her face. Her smile was so brilliant and so wide that Hotaru felt tears come to her eyes in response.

They were all so taken up with the fun of watching Sun watching her new fish that it took them nearly five seconds to realize that the crashing sounds coming towards them were an attack.

* * *

7:55 p.m.

Three hours at last count. Three stinking, miserable, lousy hours. Three hours of precious naptime he would never, ever get back.

Artemis let fly with some amazingly filthy feline curses, then took up the chase once again.

This time, at least, he was able to catch up with Sailor Venus without hyperventilating _too_ badly. She was perched on the edge of a temple roof. If not for the bright orange, blue, and white of her uniform, she would have looked like a gargoyle.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he wheezed. "Batman!?"

He held back a yowl of frustration as Venus once more leapt into the coming night. This was getting really, really old. Fighting crime was one thing. Cruising the streets of Tokyo looking for trouble was something else completely.

"How late are you planning on staying out, anyway?" Artemis asked the next time Venus stopped long enough for him to catch his breath. "And you're not going to be doing this every night now, are you?"

"Oh, stop whining, Arty."

"I am _not_ whining. What I am doing is observing that you're becoming scarily obsessive about this whole patrolling thing."

Venus just gave him an exasperated look.

"Arty, when I first became Sailor V, you were constantly nagging me to take my responsibilities more seriously, and now that I am, you're calling me...what was it you said?"

"Scarily obsessive."

"That's not very nice."

Ah, hell. He hated it when she pouted.

"All I'm saying is that there isn't even any sign of trouble, and you're out here like we're about to be under attack at any moment."

"Exactly. We weren't ready before, and we paid the price," she said. "There's no way I'm going to let my friends down a second time."

"Huh? What the hell are you talking about?" Artemis demanded. "When did you let them down a first time?"

Once again, Venus just stared at him as if he'd been spouting nonsense. Then, she shook her head like a swimmer clearing water from her ears and took off again across the rooftops.

This time, she only went one block before stopping. She raised a finger to her lips to shush Artemis before he could start ranting again.

She nodded her head down towards the alley below, where a white panel truck waited, its engine idling. The rear of the truck faced the street. A man was standing by the head of the alley, looking at something across the way through a set of binoculars.

"That's definitely suspicious. I wonder what he's looking at?" Artemis asked.

"Something in the park," said Venus. "That road across the way opens out right on the edge of Ueno Park. He's definitely looking down the street, and not at anything _on_ the street."

From his rooftop vantage, Artemis couldn't get a good look at the man's face, not with him holding the binoculars the way he was. All he could tell was that the man had iron gray hair that had been combed back ruthlessly, receding hairline be damned. Something about the man's body language and skin tone made Artemis wonder if he was a foreigner.

Artemis narrowed his eyes. There was something in the man's jacket pocket. Something that was glowing with a dusky violet light.

"You see that, Mina? Look at his jacket--there's a bit of purple shining out from his right pocket."

"Sorry. Your eyes are better than mine. Can you tell what it is?"

"Not from up here. Want me to go down and take a closer look?" If he jumped to the window ledge right below them, he could probably hop down to the dumpster without much trouble. "It's an alley after all. A cat would just be a natural part of the scenery."

He was hunkering down and tensing his hindquarters to jump when Venus grabbed him across the shoulders. "Wait! Something's happening!"

The man had finally let the binoculars fall to his chest and jumped up on the bumper to lift the back door of the truck. He called out a command--Artemis didn't recognize the language--and something moved forward out of the darkness within.

"Goblin. No--golem," Venus whispered.

Artemis bit back a growl but he couldn't stop the fur on his tail from puffing out. Something about the shambling thing felt wrong, dangerous, like the air before a typhoon, but far, far worse.

As soon as the golem was clear, the man hopped into the back of the truck. The truck then lumbered off towards the other end of the alley as its rear door rolled shut.

"Go after that thing!" Artemis yelled. "I'll see what I can find out about that truck! Maybe we can find out who's behind this!"

Venus was gone almost before Artemis was finished. The golem tore straight towards the park as if guided by a homing beacon, and Venus was hard pressed to keep up.

Meanwhile, Artemis hopped from roof to roof and trotted along power lines and road signs, trying to keep his balance and keep an eye on the truck. If he played things right, he could get a glimpse of the license plate, or maybe even some sense of which general direction the thing was headed.

He hoped Venus would be okay. He hoped she would take care of that thing before it could hurt any of the festival-goers. Most of all, he hoped he was wrong and that he _hadn't_ seen another two or three of those golem things shuffling around in the back of the truck.

* * *

7:58 p.m.

The sensation of cold, clear water washing over her seemed to go on forever. Even though Ami knew that her Senshi transformation took less than a second, it always _felt_ like it took much, much longer.

In fact, it took so little time that she was able to catch the end of Sun's transformation--such as it was.

Mercury didn't know whether to be amused or horrified as Sun whipped off her hat and her oversized shirt to reveal that she was already wearing her tiara and the top half of her Senshi uniform.

The shorts and sneakers stayed exactly as they were.

The six Senshi stood their ground, waiting as a crowd of people rushed past, fleeing from _something_.

"C'mon, where is it..." Jupiter muttered. "It's coming right at us but I can't see a thing!"

That didn't stop Sun. She aimed right at the source of the disturbance, and right into the center of the crowd.

"Sun! Don't!"

"Plasma Flare!"

Mars and Mercury both acted at the same time. Mars launched herself in the path of the attack, knocking a young boy out of harm's way. Mercury hit herself with a Shabon Spray Freezing as she tackled Sun, praying it would protect her from the worst of the heat.

They hit the ground hard, rolling over several times before coming to a stop.

"I was aiming at the golem!" Sun whined. Her breath fogged in the patch of cold air that surrounded the duo. "I was going to hit it!"

"You..." Mercury forced herself to take a deep breath. She was too angry to speak. In too much pain from where Sun's Plasma Flare had scorched bare skin above her gloves and neckline. "Wait _right_ here. Don't move. Don't attack. Don't do _anything_!"

"But I'm supposed to help!" Sun wailed.

Mercury screamed with frustration and added a Shabon Spray Freezing to Jupiter's Sparkling Wide Pressure. The cold of the power coursing through her soothed the burns and eased her temper somewhat.

"You're helping by staying right where you are!"

Jupiter's attacks slowed the thing down only a little, and Mercury's attacks could only do so much.

"Aim for the mark!" Mercury called out to Jupiter. "One of your thunderbolts should destroy it!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do! You know I can't control them that precisely, dammit! Where the hell is Mars?"

Mercury looked around but didn't see her. There was ChibiUsa over by Sun, and Saturn...

Saturn moved to guard Sun, and the golem changed course as she moved, tracking her.

Saturn stood in front of Sun and ChibiUsa. She held the Silence Glaive out in front of her, but it shook horribly in her hands, and her face was ghastly pale.

"Silence Glaive Surprise!"

The wave of dark energy broke like water over the golem.

Saturn didn't move. Her eyes were wide with fear, and Mercury thought she was going to collapse.

"Saturn! Get out of there!"

Mercury saw a flash of orange and white out of the corner of her eye. Venus, and not a moment too soon.

Before Venus could get in close enough to aim, Chibi Moon got up from Sun's side and stepped out in front of Saturn, pushing the Silence Glaive out of her way.

Chibi Moon touched her fingers to her lips then flung her arm straight out with a harsh economy of movement.

"Moon Shining Kiss!"

Five needles of silver light flew from her fingers. All five struck the golem, scything through the clay before exploding into gossamer pink starbursts.

Mercury had just enough time to think that the effect was quite lovely before she was peppered with the resulting shrapnel.

One needle must have caught the golem in its mark. The golem collapsed, falling apart along the cracks caused by Chibi Moon's pretty--and lethal--little needles.

Jupiter was the first to react. She broke out of her shock, went over to Chibi Moon, and gave her a fierce hug.

"That was incredible! When did you learn to do that?"

"I told you I'd been training with Ceres and the others," Chibi Moon said a little shakily. "It's no big deal."

"The hell it's not! I mean, just a year ago--"

"I missed it?" Venus walked over to the ex-golem, shaking her head in disgust. "Oh, that's so many kinds of unfair it's not even funny!"

"Glad you could join the party," Jupiter said. "I was beginning to think you'd abandoned us."

Venus stared at her in shock. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean! I didn't abandon anybody!"

"Hey! It was just a joke, Venus. You don't have to bite my head off."

Venus seemed caught between rage and tears. "Do you really think I'd just up and _betray_ you all like that?"

"It. Was. A. Joke."

Venus flushed red, but Mercury suspected that embarrassment was now winning out over anger. "Oh, really funny. Ha, ha, ha. Great joke."

Jupiter took a step forward and stared down at Venus. "Just what the hell is wrong with you?"

Fortunately for everyone involved, Mars showed up before anything too irrevocable could be said. She didn't appear to be hurt, but she did have a small child clinging to her leg.

"Sorry, everyone. I think I've picked up a fan."

The little boy took one look at the rest of the Senshi and hid his face in Mars's skirt.

"Unfortunately, he only knows his parents as 'Mommy' and 'Daddy'."

"Does he at least know his family name?" Jupiter asked.

Mars grimaced. "Morita. I don't think I could have found someone with a more common name if I tried."

Venus took a few steps away from the group and looked around. "Well, it looks like people are finally coming back to see if there's any excitement left. Betcha it won't take Mommy and Daddy Morita long to realize that someone's missing." She turned back to the others. "Mars, if you can pry him off your leg, leave him here with us. I want you and Saturn to take a look around the park and see if there's any other damage, or if anyone got hurt."

It was not a suggestion. Saturn didn't even linger long enough to ask any questions. In fact, she seemed eager to get away from the others. Mars gently removed her admirer and took off after Saturn.

Jupiter started to say something, but Venus shook her head wearily.

"Just trust me on this, okay." Her face squinched with concentration as she tried to put her reasoning into words. "Look. If anyone's hurt, Hotaru-chan can help them, and if there's anything really wiggy still out there, Harmonia-chan should be able to sense it."

Mercury finally understood what was meant by the phrase 'a chill down one's spine.'

"Venus, do you know what you just said?"

Venus sighed. "I got something wrong again, didn't I? Artemis keeps saying I probably have asthma or something, but that's just him being mean."

"Hey! It was supposed to be a joke!" Artemis hopped down from a cherry tree. "I lost the truck when it got to the highway. Sorry."

"Aphasia, not asthma," Mercury said softly, and a little too quietly, even for her. It wasn't entirely relevant, but there was an idea there.

"I didn't say it was a good joke," said Artemis.

"Oh, you got something wrong, all right," Jupiter snapped. "You called Rei--Mars--'Harmonia-chan.'"

The Senshi of Love and Beauty blinked a couple of times. "What the..? I--I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Would someone please tell me what on earth the two of you are talking about?" yowled Artemis.

"Did too!"

"Did--"

"Please!" snapped Mercury. She badly wanted to sit down. Her Senshi powers could only hold off the shock from her burns for so long. She should have gotten Saturn to help her out before she and Mars had left. "We can talk about this later. Venus, trust me, you just called Sailor Mars by her Silver Millennium name."

"Hold on. I thought you said you didn't remember anything from your dreams," said Artemis.

"That's not what I said! I said I couldn't understand my dreams, and they didn't make any sense!" Venus screwed her eyes shut and ground the heels of her hands against her temples. "I just wish people would listen to what I mean and not what I say!"

"We'll figure it out," Mercury said with forced calm. She knelt down by the pile of dust and dirt that had tried to kill them just a few minutes earlier. "Right now, though, I want to look at what's left of the golem before we attract a crowd. There's something here that looks like it might be a crys--ow! That's sharp!"

A thick line of blood welled up right under her index and middle fingers. "I think it's just glass," she said. She picked up a stick with her uninjured hand and poked at the remains, then activated her visor. "Odd. The whole thing is riddled with broken glass."

"That's not very nice," Venus said. "If you got in a good punch, you'd cut yourself to ribbons."

Jupiter stooped down next to Mercury. "You think it's to keep us from finding the crystals if there are any?"

Mercury didn't answer at first. There were four very clear spots of light on her visor's display. They were clustered close together from the look of things. "No. The crystals are showing up on my visor as clear as, well, crystal. _And_ they're the exact same composition as the others," she said smugly. "This should be a help. Going back to your question, Jupiter, I think Venus had the right idea."

Venus's eyebrows nearly hit her tiara at that. "Really? Go me!"

Mercury smiled at her. "I think the glass is there just as a nasty surprise."

Artemis sniffed at the golem remains. "It smells like there's a lot of organic gloop in there, guys. Mercury, if I were you, I'd get something on that cut as soon as you can."

"Believe me, I'm planning on it."

"I don't like this," said the cat. "These golems may be crude looking, but I'm getting the idea that whoever's behind this is smart, and sneaky, and doesn't care about playing fair. I mean, we don't have a clue what these things are after. I mean, our usual bad guys tend to gloat about how they're going to steal your energy or something like that. Annoying, but helpful." He sighed. "At least they're only attacking you guys, and not going after any civilian types."

"Then maybe that's what they want," said Jupiter. "Maybe they're after us, to get us out of the way or something."

"Or to distract us from something else that's going on," Artemis suggested.

"I wish I could figure out where that mark came from," Mercury said. "I know I've seen it before."

"So it's not in your computer, then." Artemis didn't so much sit as let his rear half collapse to the ground. "You know, I really wish I knew what Queen Serenity was thinking when she scrambled everyone's memories."

"While that specific mark wasn't in the database," Mercury said, "the computer was able to pull up some similar characters from an arcane alphabet that was supposedly used by some people in Earth's Golden Kingdom."

"Earth?" Artemis's ears flicked back and forth.

"You think it means something, Arty?" Venus asked.

The cat shook his head, but Mercury could see the doubt in his eyes. "It's just something to think about, that's all."

"What do we know about these things?" Jupiter asked. "Besides the obvious, of course."

"Fish!"

"Of course. Fish. Why didn't I think of that?" Jupiter muttered.

Sun was spinning around, frantic about something. "Fish! Fish! Where's my fish!"

Chibi Moon stepped forward with a resolved look and a bag with a sad bit of red and black floating in the middle. "He, um, got boiled," she said. From the look on Sun's face, this was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Chibi Moon shuffled the bag from hand to hand to avoid getting scalded. "I mean, he's sleeping. Sort of." She shook the bag a bit. "Look! He just moved! See?"

Sun relaxed at once, and Chibi Moon patted her on the shoulder.

"Let's go see if they have any more fish," she said. "Maybe we can find one that's not so sleepy."

Sun yelped with delight, and Chibi Moon discreetly dumped the dead fish into a trash can as soon as the other girl's back was turned.

* * *

Hideo Morita's parents showed up bare minutes after the dust had settled and were deliriously grateful to find their son unharmed. They were not, however, quite so delirious that they forgot to get autographs from the Senshi. Sun drew a little picture of a sun with a smiley face in lieu of an autograph. 

Mars and Saturn only took about fifteen minutes to find out that the golem damage was restricted to the one spot. Saturn still looked a little shaky, but otherwise in much better shape than when she had left. Jupiter started to ask what the hell had happened with the Silence Glaive Surprise, but Mars gave her a stern look and shook her head sharply.

Jupiter shrugged it off. Whatever it was, Saturn and Mars must have hashed it out when they were on patrol.

Once the remaining two autographs were obtained, the Moritas left, coming back just a few minutes later with red bean cakes for everyone. They begged Mars to pose for a picture with Hideo-chan, and once that was accomplished, they left again, this time for good.

Since Mars and Saturn had reported that there was no apparent threat, Mercury wanted to stay behind to get a better look at the golem's remains before the police arrived.

Venus, on the other hand, was convinced that if there was one golem out there, there was bound to be another one. She volunteered to take another look around the area. Artemis grumbled a bit, but after he explained about the truck they'd seen, and the shadows he'd seen moving around in the back, Mercury and Mars practically insisted that they take another look around the area, especially the alley.

Venus scooped up Artemis and took off before anyone else could volunteer to go with her.

Hotaru and ChibiUsa were adamant about finding a replacement fish for Sun, so Jupiter and Mars played rock-paper-scissors to determine who would go with the girls and who would stay behind to help Mercury.

Mars lost.

As soon as the others were gone, Mercury and Jupiter ducked into a grove of trees and transformed back to their civilian identities. They only had a few minutes before one of the people who'd seen the attack reported it to the authorities. If anyone came by while they were poking around, they could just pass themselves off as curiosity seekers.

Makoto went back to the golem to keep watch while Ami went to see if she could buy some plastic cups and some lids off one of the vendors. A couple of teenaged boys wandered up, either to look at the monster or to check out the hot girl who was lounging against one of the trees.

Once they got a good look at the expression on Makoto's face, however, they decided that they'd be better off looking for excitement somewhere else.

Ami finally came back and Makoto was glad of the opportunity to vent. "I'll tell you what, Ami-chan. I'm beginning to wish that I'd scheduled my date for tonight, not tomorrow."

Ami raised an eyebrow and bent to her work, scooping debris away with one of the plastic cups. The faint glow in Ami's bag told Makoto that the Mercury computer was up and running.

"Yeah, I know I've been complaining about not having any excitement, but there's fun excitement and then there's annoying excitement. You know what I mean?"

"Oh, yes. I do think it would have been much less annoying without Sun around," Ami said hesitantly. "I feel absolutely awful for saying that, but after she nearly hit that child?" She shuddered.

"Speaking of which, how are the burns?"

"Hotaru took care of the worst of the blisters, but I still feel like I have one of the worst sunburns in my life. I may have to sleep in Senshi form tonight so things can heal more quickly." She shook her head and sighed in exasperation. "I really wish we had a better idea of the extent of Hotaru's healing powers. They seem more effective with some things than others. That cut on my hand is completely gone--you'd never even know I'd been hurt in the first place."

Makoto started to ask Ami if she'd considered having Hotaru run a few experiments, but remembered just in time that Hotaru had spent a good chunk of her life as her father's lab rat. It would be better for everyone if they just let the idea occur to Hotaru on its own. Fewer fireworks that way.

"Ami-chan, are we any closer to figuring out what's going on with these things?" Makoto asked. She prodded the pile of dirt with her foot, grimacing when she saw the stain it left on her sneaker.

"Well, as far as we know, the one that attacked Hotaru was the first that any of us saw. There could have been one out last weekend for all we know, but we were all at Usagi's party. I hope we would have heard something about it if there had been an attack before then."

"Then you and Venus saw three that one night, right?"

Ami nodded. "Except for tonight, we've only seen the golems in relatively abandoned areas. Hotaru said that she felt some sort of malevolence before she was attacked, but Venus and I didn't know anything was wrong until Sun blew up that barrel of diesel."

"Yeah, but Hotaru's Hotaru, y'know? It is kind of funny that we haven't seen anything, well, _funny_ going on, other than golems."

The Mercury computer beeped, and Ami smiled grimly. "Crystals. Just like the ones in the first golem. They even glow the same way." She scooped the crystals into one of the cups.

"No big black ships in the sky, no eclipses, no freaky circuses, no ChibiUsa dropping out of the sky, no Mamoru getting vaporized in the middle of Narita Airport... I mean, don't these things usually have more build-up?"

Ami laughed softly. "You're really amused by the whole idea of Mamoru dying, aren't you?"

Makoto shrugged. "Hey, as long as he keeps on coming back, we can joke about it, right? Boy's got more lives than a cat."

It didn't seem all that humorous, now that Makoto thought about it. After all, she and the others had died and been resurrected just as many times as Mamoru, but... Odd. For them, death and rebirth was obviously unusual. For Mamoru, though, it almost seemed natural.

Okay, time to start thinking about other things before she weirded herself out more than she already was.

"Right. Let's just say this all did start this Monday, and Hotaru's golem was the first one. So, what happened right before?"

Ami didn't answer at first, and Makoto thought she was lost in her work.

"How long before?" she finally asked. "Days? Weeks? Or just a few days before? Let's see... ChibiUsa returned."

"We had the party for Usagi."

"Right. Sun said she was watching us at the party, so we can add her entry into public life to the list. That reminds me--we need to figure out some way to meet this 'Mother' of hers. Sun knew about the golems, so it's safe to assume that 'Mother' probably has some information we could use."

"Those detectives started talking to Mamoru about something."

Ami murmured in surprise. "Yes. I'd almost forgotten that."

Given that she only remembered because she had Jason on the brain, Makoto couldn't feel _too_ proud of herself. "What about the dreams you all have been having. Those started up at about the same time, right?"

Another murmur from Ami, this one more worried sounding than the first. "Yes. I've been thinking about that quite a bit," she said. "I still don't know why you haven't been dreaming of the past--or why you're not remembering your dreams if you are--but I have a theory about why the rest of us are remembering the past in the way we are. Artemis's joke about aphasia got me thinking."

"You don't think that Minako-chan is--"

"No! She does get her words mixed up sometimes, and I couldn't tell you how her thought processes worked if I tried, but that's hardly as serious a matter as aphasia."

"Which is?" Makoto prompted. "Some of us aren't on the doctor track, remember?"

"Severe disruption in speech production or comprehension, often caused by brain trauma," Ami said, half-quoting from the sound of it. "What Artemis's comment reminded me of, though, is that the five of us all think very differently."

"No kidding. Sometimes, I think you're the only one of us who does think."

Ami blushed. "I meant, we all process information very differently. I-I, um, like facts. Data. Information. Irrefutable evidence. I _like_ being able to interpret things for myself, and so maybe that's why my dreams are so literal. It's only rarely that I get to do anything other than observe. Then there's Rei-chan. From the sound of things, she's seeing metaphoric representations of the truth behind things, just as if she were receiving a vision or some sort. Once we figure out what her dreams mean, I think we'll find that everything in her dreams signifies something important about our past--that is, if they're all just dreams about the past..."

"And not visions about the future. Y'know, I'm starting to be kind of glad that I've been left out of all this craziness."

What would her dreams be like, if she had them? Probably full of taste and smell and the way it felt to do things, Makoto thought. Either that, or it would be like a first-person shooter video game.

"As for Usagi-chan, well, her dreams don't seem to carry a lot of information, from what she's said. But think about how she describes them."

Makoto did just that. Usagi could never assign a name or a context for any of the people she saw in her dreams. From the sound of things, her dreams were more like watching a slide show than watching a movie. "There's never anything _happening_ in her dreams. She always talks about what she _feels_ about different people."

Ami nodded. "Exactly. Plus, her dreams are always about people. Maybe she dreams about places and things, but it's the people she remembers and thinks about."

"Which is so very Usagi-chan," Makoto said, chuckling softly. Half the things in Usagi's dreams could be monsters and villains, but Usagi was probably wondering if they were happy, if they were safe, and if they were loved. Makoto wouldn't change a thing about Usagi or her unfailingly kind heart, but her friend's persistent and sometimes bull-headed sympathy could be maddening at times.

"Now as for Minako-chan, she's rather smart--"

"Are you kidding me?" Makoto shrieked.

"Not in the slightest! I know she doesn't do well in school, but she's clever--not always wise, but clever. More to the point, she can think quickly when she needs to. There's a reason why she was appointed to be our leader in battle."

Good point. Makoto recalled Venus's explanations for why she had sent Mars and Saturn out to check for damage. The reasoning was sound, but Venus had obviously not put it into words--even for herself--until asked.

"Right. It's like she goes from point A to point D without noticing that she's going though points B and C."

"Exactly. Her dreams probably only seem to be disorganized and nonsensical, but I suspect they're actually quite logical, or they will be once Minako-chan figures out the rules. There's a good chance she's re-obtaining the same amount of information as I am, but it's all happening subconsciously, which could explain the slip of the tongue. At least, I hope that's all it is."

After another twenty minutes or so, they'd gotten all they could from the remains of the golem. Ami and Makoto decided that they didn't want to deal with the crowds on the busses and subway, so they transformed and headed back to the Hikawa Shrine in Senshi form.

No one was waiting at the bus stop, but Rei was sitting on the shrine steps, leaning back on her elbows. She glowered in exasperation as Mercury and Jupiter transformed back.

"You really ought to make sure that no one's around before you do that," she said. "Just because you can't see someone, it doesn't mean that they can't see you."

"Good to see you too, Rei-chan," Makoto said, cheerfully enough to let Rei know she was teasing.

"I scanned the area with my visor before we changed," Ami said. "I assume Sun caught the bus back home?"

Rei nodded. "As it turns out, Marfa was waiting out here the entire time, but she said she didn't mind since she was able to put the time to good use." She tossed something over to Ami. The 'something' turned out to be a pair of very itchy hand knit socks. "She says thank you for the fish, by the way, but I don't think she was happy about it. I also called Setsuna and told her about what happened. Tsukino-san came by to pick up ChibiUsa a few minutes ago, and Hotaru-chan is staying here for the night."

Makoto blinked a few times in surprise. Rei and Hotaru had never struck her as being all that buddy-buddy.

"She's still freaked out about how she reacted to the golem and she didn't want to deal with anyone who would try to get her to talk about things," Rei explained before she could be asked. "Speaking of the golem, were you able to find out anything new?"

"Ami-chan found some more crystals," Makoto said. "Other than that, zip."

Rei didn't say anything for a few moments, and the distant look in her eyes made Makoto wonder if she was having some sort of vision.

After a few seconds, Rei nodded sharply, as if coming to some sort of decision. "Ami-chan, you said the golem's mark looked familiar, right? And so did Usagi?"

"Right."

"But neither Mako-chan or Minako-chan recognized it," she stated with a quick glance in Makoto's direction.

"I think so," Ami said.

Makoto nodded in confirmation.

Rei's lips pressed together in a thin line. "That's important. I know it's important, but I don't know why. Not yet, but I'm getting close."

"Tip of your tongue?"

"Exactly. When I finally saw the golem's mark in person, I recognized more than the way they look. I also recognized the way they felt. Something about the way the mark is formed opens up a sort of door--conduit is probably a better word--for energy to enter and animate an inanimate object. It's like there's a chill, or a draft, or... no. It's more like that shiver you get when chalk squeaks on a blackboard. I can't describe the feeling exactly, but it's unmistakable."

"Something else from your past life?" Makoto asked.

One corner of Rei's mouth twisted up as she smiled grimly at her friends. "No. I'm pretty sure I recognize it from _this_ one."

* * *

11:00 p.m.

"Mina, can we call it a night? Please? We took care of that stupid golem hours ago and we haven't seen a sign of any others. I'm exhausted, and you should be too. What is going on with you? Can't you just leave things alone for one lousy night?"

"I can't help it! I'm restless. I don't want to sleep."

"You sleep just fine in math class!"

She shrugged, then dropped down to street level and transformed back into Minako. Artemis didn't even bother to make a show of looking away.

"I always fall asleep in math class. So what? What's got your garters in a twist, anyway?"

"You're bouncing around like a Chihuahua on an espresso buzz! You...you've been acting like a badly written parody of yourself, and I'm worried!"

Minako pouted. "You always sound angry when you tell me you're worried."

"Well, maybe that's because I'm also angry! You were unspeakably rude to Mako-chan and the others--you're lucky she didn't take a swing at you, if you ask me. Also, this is the third night in a row you've dragged me out when we should both be sleeping, and it's making me cranky!"

Minako scoffed and walked off towards their house. Artemis trotted after her.

"In case you didn't notice, I'm a cat. Cat, remember? Definition: a small carnivorous mammal that requires eighteen hours of sleep a day and hates disruptions in its daily routine. Correction--make that loathes and _detests_ disruptions in its daily routine!"

Mid-rant, Artemis noticed a couple of tipsy salarymen staring at him.

"Piss off!" he snapped.

The salarymen must have been drunk enough for this to seem like a perfectly reasonable thing for a cat to say, since they staggered off on their way without a single comment.

He turned and stalked through the gate to the house and was surprised to see Minako waiting quietly by the door. The last two nights she had gone straight inside, leaving him to squeeze his way in via the bathroom window.

"Artemis? I'm sorry, babe." She scooped him up, supporting his hindquarters as she lifted him to her shoulder. "I've just been, I dunno, all jangly or something, lately. I feel like if I'm not out doing something, I'm going to explode."

Artemis leaned back in her grasp so he could look her in the eye. "Mina, I really don't mean to be a nag, but 'jangly' doesn't sound like a good thing. Neither does exploding. Promise me you'll stay in tomorrow night unless a real emergency comes up. Please?"

She thought about that for a moment, looking up at the heavens, and her mouth twisted in concentration.

"Would it make you feel better if I did?" she finally asked.

He nodded.

"We'll see," she said as they went inside, and he knew it was all the promise he would get out of her.

"You think you'll have another dream tonight?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. I really wish they'd start making more sense. Most of it's the sort of stuff I normally dream about--exams, losing stuff, that kind of thing--but it's all mixy with this other stuff. Like, I'm trying to find a class that I didn't know I was signed up for but at the same time I need to find one of the inner Senshi who isn't there and I kinda don't know who she is. I mean, she was supposed to be a part of the team but no one told us, or we forgot or something, but it keeps changing. It's _not_ Sun, though. That much I can tell. Last night was a doozy. I was helping Queen Serenity pack her suitcases because the Dark Kingdom was about to attack and she wasn't ready. You know what was really funny, though?"

Artemis was almost afraid to ask. "Hmm?"

"She had a complete set of Louis Vuitton luggage. Can you believe it?"

"Mina..."

"Oh, you take the fun out of everything! The only thing that stays the same is that right before I wake up there's always something about that big-ass spear and people getting stabbed with it."

"Huh... That's, well, um, very Freudian."

"What?"

"Never mind," he sighed. "Still, even if doesn't make any sense, would it kill you to write some of the details down? If it's some sort of symbolism, maybe Ami or Rei could help you figure out what it all means."

"Okay. No problem. Now let's get your cranky little kitty butt to bed so you can stop nagging me."

He resisted for a second as she pulled him closer, then gave in and let her hold him against her shoulder like an infant.

Cursing himself as a weak idiot, Artemis rested his head in the crook of Minako's neck and allowed himself to drift off to sleep as she carried him up to her room.

* * *

Sunday, July 8, 7:45 a.m.

When the phone rang, Setsuna seriously considered ripping it from the wall and jumping up and down on it until the noise stopped.

Fortunately--for the telephone, anyway--someone else grabbed it on the second ring. In the meantime, she could work on getting some more caffeine into her system.

She grabbed her empty mug and headed downstairs, but stopped halfway down. From the sound of things, there wasn't enough coffee in the world that would make her able to deal with the kind of confrontation that was obviously brewing.

Haruka's normally deep, warm voice was cold and clipped, and starting to get more than a little shrill. It would probably be best if she went back to her room, but there was a distinct lack of coffee in her room. Setsuna sighed, and continued downstairs.

As soon as Setsuna walked into the living room, Haruka put down the phone with the sort of deliberate care that said she'd much rather slam it down with enough force to shatter the legs of the Louis XIV console on which it sat.

Setsuna smiled softly and slyly as she headed to the kitchen to fetch her third cup of coffee. "I'm guessing that Kaiou-san doesn't know the truth about your involvement with Michiru."

Haruka followed Setsuna into the kitchen and went straight to the refrigerator. "She knows we're together. She's thrilled that her daughter's involved with a famous race car driver. I don't know or care if she thinks I'm a guy or a girl. Is there any of that teriyaki beef left from last night?"

"Sorry. It breathed its last as a much-needed midnight snack."

Haruka cursed under her breath and pulled a slim cardboard box out of the freezer. "As for Kaiou-san, I think the only thing that interests her about me is the 'famous.' I'm just waiting for her to start pushing Michiru to trade up to something with more media visibility than a racer." She opened the microwave door and paused.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Haruka slid a plastic tray out of the box and put it in the microwave. "I just thought I heard a car in the driveway, that's all. What time is Hotaru coming back from Rei's?"

"Rei said she'd have her back here by noon at the latest. I wonder why on earth she wanted to stay there last night, and not with ChibiUsa. I never thought of Hotaru and Rei being all that close, or am I missing something?"

"Hmph. These days, when it come to Hotaru, I feel like I'm missing ninety percent of what's going on." Haruka lobbed the cardboard box across the kitchen and into the trash. "No, that's not fair. From what Michiru said last night, it sounded like Hotaru wanted to talk about the golem that attacked them in the park. I've been telling Hotaru-chan for months that she ought to talk to Rei about these psychic flashes she gets from time to time." She shook her head. "I just wish we didn't have to wait for a crisis to convince her it was a good idea."

"We all do things our own way in our own time, I guess." Setsuna couldn't even begin to count the number of times she'd realized after the fact she should have taken Abuelita Rosario's advice before landing herself in a pickle.

"I'd love to beat that bit of wisdom into Kaiou-san's head with a lead pipe," Haruka snarled. "Did you see what she had the gall to bring over the other day?" She pointed at the trash can.

Setsuna caught a glimpse of the package that Haruka tossed into the trash. The words 'Low Fat!' and 'Low Sodium!' were featured so prominently that she couldn't tell what the meal itself was supposed to be.

Haruka shrugged. "They're actually not all that bad once you add some sesame oil and salt. Keep that in mind, because there are eleven more just like it in the freezer. I swear, the next time Kaiou-san says anything--_anything_--about Michiru's weight, career, clothes, makeup, friends, whatever, I'm going to..." She raked a hand through her hair and laughed bitterly. "I'm going to be coldly polite, keep my mouth shut, and work on undoing her propaganda campaign once she flies back to Hell where she belongs. Same as I always do. Michiru doesn't need me to make things any more stressful than they already are."

Not for the first time, Setsuna thought that Michiru would be much happier as an orphan. Maybe they should offer some assistance on that front. "She's been getting worse, hasn't she?"

"Kaiou-san? No, she's the same as she's always been. It's just that sometimes she gets on my nerves more than others."

"I wasn't talking about Kaiou-san."

Haruka froze. There was no other word for it.

Setsuna held her breath, wishing she could in fact turn back time and unsay what she had just said.

"Could we please not talk about that right now?" Haruka's voice was shakier than Setsuna could ever remember hearing.

Please don't let her start crying, she thought. I wouldn't know what to do if she started crying.

So, Setsuna did the first thing that came to mind:

"So, how about those BayStars?" She snatched up a pair of dishtowels and made a desperate rah-rah motion. "Go, Yokohama!"

Haruka stared at her, mouth agape, for all of two seconds before collapsing against the counter in helpless laughter.

"Oh, I needed that!" Haruka wiped her eyes on her sleeve as she tried to catch her breath. "I haven't had a good laugh like that in I don't know how long."

Setsuna topped off her mug with the last of the coffee. No sense in letting it go to waste. "About four months ago?"

"Four months?"

Setsuna smirked as she took a sip of coffee. "Oh, surely you remember the oh-so-fabulous 'Sailor Earth'?"

This time, Haruka nearly slid to the floor as she shook with laughter. "The sequins!" she gasped. "The glitter!"

"What got me was the bee-hive hairdo." Setsuna couldn't stop giggling. "I don't even want to know how many ribbons were on that costume! Or how anyone could walk on those platform heels. Just looking at them made my feet ache."

"We've got to dig out those newspaper clippings while ChibiUsa-chan's still here," Haruka said when she could stop cracking up. "I wish she'd been here to see the Fabulous! Sailor! Earth! for herself."

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Setsuna said with a shrug. The self-styled Sailor Earth had been an amusing crusader for ecological reform before getting arrested for trespassing on government property. "Too bad we never got to meet."

"I think you meant 'just as well,' not 'too bad.' Minako's still pissed that his legs looked better than hers," Haruka said, provoking another bout of laughter. "You done with your mug?"

"Just a sec." Setsuna tipped back the last of her coffee then handed the mug over to Haruka.

Haruka bent to open the dishwasher just as a stone lantern came hurtling through the window and through the space where her head had been less than a second earlier.

"What the hell was _that_!?" she shrieked.

Setsuna didn't answer. Haruka's words stuttered, looped, sped up, slowed down, and turned in on themselves as the transformation to Sailor Pluto twisted time and space around her. She leapt through the huge hole in the kitchen wall, Time Staff at the ready. The sound of a brief, brutal gust of wind told her that Haruka had also transformed.

Two huge, shambling creatures stood in the back yard. They remained still for a moment, seemingly confused by the women's transformation, but it didn't take long for them to start moving towards the house again.

Golems, according to the Mercury computer, but a far older word leapt to Pluto's mind.

_Hulgal_.

Sailor Uranus landed right beside her, sword at the ready. "The others said these things were ugly, but that doesn't begin to cover it."

When the others had said the creatures were made of mud, Pluto had pictured something like a crude doll shaped out of brown or gray plasticine, with the strange mark neatly incised into the forehead.

What she had not expected was the patchiness of the things--some bits black, some bits nearly white, others a deep red that looked as if blood had been mixed in with the earth.

The worst part though, was the total disregard for the human form. These things were a mockery of life, with limbs placed asymmetrically and eyeless heads set on askew with gaping, crater-like mouths. Rocks and bits of metal jutted out from the earthen skin like tumors.

At least the marks were easy to see. They seemed almost to glow, although they did not cast any light of their own.

It was the first time she had seen the mark for herself, and while she did not recognize the mark itself, she certainly recognized its origin.

"Druj," she muttered. But there weren't any more _druj_. Were there?

"Droozhe?" Uranus asked. "You know what these things are?"

"Evil spirits," Pluto said, even though the answer was far more complicated than that. 'Evil' wasn't really the right word. And the shaping of these things was like no druj craft she--no, the _first_ Sailor Pluto, not she herself--had ever seen. "I'll explain later. Right now, we need to get rid of these things. Preferably _before_ they do any more damage to the house."

"I couldn't agree more. Let's get this over with." Uranus reached up casually, and a ball of golden-white energy swirled around her fingers. "World Shaking!"

She released the attack and the super-concentrated whirlwind tore across the earth towards the closest golem, churning up the ground as it went.

Pluto called forth her Dead Scream and watched as the wave of distorted time and space rushed forward with what should have been devastating effect. Reality itself cracked and groaned under its impact.

Grass and earth flew everywhere, but the golems kept on walking as if nothing at all had happened.

Uranus rushed one of the golems, yelling at the top of her lungs as she raised her sword to strike. The golem swung at her, nearly knocking the sword out of her hand. She flipped back out of its reach, then tried to run around to attack from behind but the golem turned to follow her every move.

"They don't have any eyes! How are they tracking us?"

Pluto had no idea. As soon as Uranus had launched her attack the other golem had run straight at her. She had trained enough with a quarterstaff to know how to use the Time Staff as a weapon, but the golem blocked every one of her blows. The direct approach wasn't working, so she changed her tactics, swinging the Staff down on its arm as hard as she could, sending clods of smelly mud spraying up with each blow.

"You can't block me if you don't have any arms, you bastard," she hissed as she rained a series of blows against what looked like an elbow.

Even as huge gouts of mud were flying everywhere, she felt herself connecting hard with something else in there that gave a good bit of resistance. Before long her own arms were staring to feel like jelly.

She grunted with the effort as the next swing knocked the creature's arm off at the shoulder, and she smiled grimly as she saw Uranus remove the other golem's head with one broad sweep of her sword.

One more swing, and the Time Staff completely obliterated the golem's mark. The creature fell to bits, and Pluto jumped back with a yelp as over a dozen pieces of rebar clattered to the earth along with the mud and clay.

"Uranus, are you... Oh my god!"

The headless golem had grabbed Uranus by the neck and had lifted her off the ground. Uranus was pulling at its hand and twisting in the thing's grip, but it was like trying to budge solid stone. Uranus's sword was halfway across the yard, by the golem's severed head.

Uranus made a few more feeble attempts to break free then went limp.

Pluto hesitated for a second, but only a second. She fought back her instinctive reaction and ran away from Uranus and towards the golem's head. She raised the Time Staff as she ran and swung it down viciously onto the glowing mark.

She nearly sobbed with relief when she heard the clatter of gravel behind her.

Pluto was almost afraid to turn around but when she did, she saw Uranus lying in and among the rubble and she was breathing, oh thank God, she was breathing!

Uranus's face was red and blotchy, and her entire throat was one gigantic bruise. She was completely unresponsive at first, but her eyes fluttered open after a few seconds. The wet, rattling sound that came out as she tried to breathe turned Pluto's stomach.

"Don't try so hard to take a breath," Pluto babbled. Uranus's eyes were horribly bloodshot, which meant something very much not good, Pluto recalled. "We need to get you some help but don't transform back, okay? You're stronger in this form, so just stay like that. We'll get Hotaru here for you, and she'll get you fixed up, okay?"

"L-light..." Uranus rasped. She pointed at the remains of the golem beneath her.

"Don't try to speak! And don't sit up." Or maybe she should sit? Were there fluids or something that needed to drain? Pluto knew a good deal of first aid from her stint as a school nurse, but she was used to dealing with tummyaches and scraped knees, not near-strangulation for heaven's sake! "I'll go inside and get some wet cloths, and see if we can reduce the swelling. I'll call Mamoru and ask him what we should do, or I can get hold of Ami. She'll know, or she can ask her mom. Yes, that's it. I'll call them as soon as I get hold of Hotaru."

Uranus simply gave Pluto an 'are you being stupid on purpose?' look and kept on pointing at the pile of dirt. Pluto saw a glint of something blue amidst the rubble.

"I'll take a look at it once I get hold of Hotaru. It's not going anywhere," Pluto said as she activated her communicator. She transformed back while waiting for an answer. For some reason, she felt that being in Senshi form would have been horribly impersonal.

"Hello?" Hotaru's greeting sounded oddly wary.

"Hotaru-chan, it's Setsuna-mama," she said, trying keep her voice steady.

"Is something wrong? You guys aren't mad that I stayed at Rei-san's last night, are you?"

What the hell? They'd given permission last night when Rei had called. Why on earth would they be mad? Why would Hotaru think that? Setsuna felt horrible.

"I need you to come home right away, sweetie. Your Haruka-papa's been hurt."

She didn't know how to interpret the silence on the other end of the connection. "Hotaru-chan?"

"I'll be right there," came the quiet answer. "Is Haruka-papa going to be okay?"

Setsuna's eyes brimmed with tears at the little catch in Hotaru's voice. "Just get here as fast as you can, sweetie. I'll look after her until you get here, okay?"

She felt a pang of guilt as she broke the connection. It sounded like Hotaru still needed to talk, but Setsuna needed to get hold of the others.

Ami answered her communicator right away. "She absolutely needs medical attention," she said once Setsuna had filled her in and she had a chance to look something up in one of her mother's reference books. "See what Hotaru can do for her, but I do think you should get her to the hospital. Tracheal injury's more commonly caused by blunt force trauma than strangulation, but with the kind of force these things can exert? I wouldn't rule it out, and if that's the case, things could get very serious very quickly. Mamoru-kun's at the hospital today. I'll try to get a message to him, but I think he's going to be hard to reach."

"Thank you, Ami-chan. I'll see you in a... Uranus! What are you doing?! Stop that!"

Uranus was sitting up and digging around in the golem's remains. She coughed a few times--horrible, tearing sounds--but she waved off Setsuna's help.

It took her only a second to find what she was looking for. She held four small crystals out to Setsuna with a look of grim triumph.

Two of the crystals looked almost like plain glass with a faint blue tinge. The other two were anything but plain.

One glowed a deep, rich blue with flecks of gold. The other crystal was so black it looked like a hole in Uranus's hand, but when she drew it back from Setsuna, it released a pulse of red-violet light.

Setsuna could only begin to imagine what this all meant. The one thing she did know was that they had to get hold of Michiru as quickly as possible.

She activated her communicator once more and waited for Michiru to answer. The communicator seemed to beep along with Setsuna's racing heart as she waited.

And waited.

* * *

When Michiru left the house that morning, it was with every intention of going to rehearsal. 

At least, that's what she told herself as she left the house more than three hours before she really needed to. She told it to herself once more as she passed the exit that she usually took to get to Tokyo University. She kept on driving, not sure of where exactly she wanted to go. After a while, she realized that she must have gone nearly completely around Tokyo Bay and wasn't it about time that she got off the highway and found a place to rest and who wanted to go to rehearsal anyway?

Besides, she had forgotten to bring her violin with her.

She parked in the lot for some public beach and didn't bother to look at the name of the town. All that mattered was being by the ocean. She grabbed her bag, kicked off her shoes, and headed down to walk along the edge of the surf.

For the first mile or so, the beach was dotted with groups of sunbathers and picnicking families. In a few hours, most of the public beaches would be so covered with people that you could barely see the sand.

In the meantime, Michiru just kept on walking, figuring that she'd find a suitably quiet spot sooner or later.

The tide was being cooperative that morning, drawing far enough out for her to pick her way around a couple of headlands and jetties that otherwise would have blocked her path. After a little while she had reached a rocky, cliff-sheltered cove. The rocks were too large and too jagged to be inviting to sunbathers, but she quickly spotted a place to sit where she could dangle her legs in the surf. She left her bag on shore, well above the high tide line, and picked her way across the sharp and slippery rocks to her chosen seat.

And so she sat there, enjoying the way the waves crashed up around her and the way her hair grew sticky and heavy in the salt spray. She laughed a little to herself as she sucked the salt off a stray tendril that landed in her mouth.

Except for the waves, the cove was absolutely quiet. There weren't even any seabirds.

Of course, someone would come to disturb her peace. A golem--at least, that's what she assumed it was--was clambering down the rocky slope to the cove and making a tremendous amount of noise as it did so.

Once it reached sea level, it headed straight towards her. That meant she'd have to move, drat the luck.

She slid down off her rock and into the water. The golem couldn't hurt her if she was in the ocean. She didn't know how she knew that, but she knew it for a certainty.

With glacial calm, she waded out until she was waist-deep in the water, with the swells rising almost to her shoulders. The golem, not knowing any better, tried to follow.

The instant it touched the water, a long, ridged wave rose up and reared back like a mass of cobras preparing to strike. The sea foam on the crest of the wave reminded Michiru of teeth. Part of her thought that she should perhaps be surprised or even alarmed by all of this, but another part knew that she had absolutely nothing to fear.

The wave stood still for a moment as it reached its peak, then it darted forward and pulled the golem into the surf.

Michiru went back to her seat and watched, bemused, as the waves relentlessly pounded the creature against the rocks until there was nothing left but a bit of gray slurry that slowly dispersed into the vastness of the sea.

Once the golem was gone, a gentle wave washed up over the rock, leaving a tiny offering beside Michiru. As if in a dream, Michiru reached down to pick up the tiny crystal. It glowed a brilliant aquamarine as her hand drew near. She picked it up, but all it did was glow.

"Huh."

A sharp flick of her wrist sent the crystal spinning out across the waves. It stopped glowing long before it hit the water.

Now that the distraction was over, Michiru settled back to watch the ocean. Things were going to happen soon, big things, and not just in her dreams.

Perhaps she could go swimming for a bit, immerse herself in the ocean, but no. Not yet. If she went in, she wasn't sure she would be coming back, and it wasn't quite time for that.

She wondered if that idea was something that should worry her. It seemed like the sort of thing that people worried about, but for some reason, she honestly didn't care.

She could not yet hear the singer in the waking world, but it was only a matter of time. Besides, she could hear the song well enough in her own mind and that was enough for now. It was enough to keep her calm, and it was enough to drown out that annoying beeping that was coming from her bag.

* * *

8:20 a.m.

For the moment, peace reigned in the Tsukino household, but as any member of that household would have said, a moment is not a very long time by any stretch of the imagination. In that moment, Kenji and Ikuko were enjoying their morning tea, Shingo was sleeping like a teenaged boy on a Sunday morning, and ChibiUsa and Usagi were lounging in Usagi's room listening to music at an officially inoffensive volume while waiting for breakfast to be served.

The moment ended when ChibiUsa peered up over the top of Volume Four of 'Fruits Basket' to glower at Usagi.

"It's been over a week and you still owe me a birthday present," she said, obviously trying for Tones of Doom.

"I told you, I'm working on it. Don't be so impatient!" Usagi replied without even looking at her. She sat cross-legged on her bed, attention locked on the gold-and-enamel egg cradled in her lap. "C'mon, you know how this thing opens, don't you? Give me a hint. Just a little one? Please?"

There was no answer, only a soft _thwick_ as ChibiUsa turned the page of her manga.

Usagi hoisted the egg out of her lap. "I don't remember it being so heavy!" She put one ear to the egg, then gave it a shake.

"Usagi!" ChibiUsa looked like she was going to faint.

"What?" Usagi put the egg back down on the bed next to her rather than back in her lap. It was heavy enough that it was putting her legs to sleep. "I'm just trying to figure out what's inside."

"Well, don't break it!"

"You wouldn't have to worry about me breaking it if you'd just tell me how to open it!"

Diana woke from her nap and glared at the two girls through slitted eyes. "Usagi-sama, please put the egg back down. It doesn't have a latch, or a lock, or a lid."

Usagi did her best to return the glare, but backed down. Diana was even better at a staring contest than Luna, and that was saying something.

She picked up the egg and hid it under a pile of laundry in her closet. Too bad she couldn't keep it out on display. It would have raised more questions than that stupid solid-gold picture frame.

_And maybe if I keep trying to remember, I'll be sure to give myself a wooden picture frame when I'm in the future._

She paused for a moment to try to burn that thought ever deeper into her brain.

When she looked at her desk, the frame was still gold. The other day, there had been a scary moment when her mother had walked into her room and seen the picture, but fortunately, Ikuko was more interested in the picture than the frame. It was a good thing she hadn't tried to pick the thing up, or things might have gotten...interesting.

Usagi picked up a comb from her dresser and started to work the tangles out of her hair. "I'm not sure if I'm glad or sorry I wasn't with you guys last night. Is Hotaru-chan okay? Mako-chan said that the Silence Glaive Surprise didn't do anything to the golem." She winced as the comb encountered a knot. "I hope she wasn't too freaked out. I know I would have been if I'd already been beaten by one."

"She's okay," ChibiUsa said, shrugging. "She was pretty upset that her attack didn't work. I think that's why she went to Rei's last night."

"So when do I get to see this new attack of yours? Mako-chan said you could have knocked her over with a feather when you destroyed that golem. Your mom must be really proud of you."

"I guess." ChibiUsa's tone was completely empty of any feeling.

Usagi blinked in surprise. She put down her comb and turned to look at her future daughter, but she couldn't read ChibiUsa's expression. Well, she was back into her manga, so maybe that was it. The way she could get sucked into a book like that was something she had in common with Mamoru, and it never failed to drive Usagi nuts. After all, people were more important than books. ChibiUsa could read when she was alone.

"Well, I'm proud of you, if that means anything. It sounds like that training with Ceres and the others is really working."

"Of course it's working," ChibiUsa said, turning the page of her manga with undue emphasis. "I pay attention when I'm training, unlike some people Luna told me about."

Of all the ungrateful little...

"That's because some of us didn't need as much training, you little brat. Some of us are natural born warriors," Usagi said, brandishing the comb like a sword.

"You? A natural born warrior? I'll believe that when I see it...shorty."

"Shorty! What the... I'm not shorter than you, squirt!" Usagi growled.

ChibiUsa smirked. "You will be. I'm due for another growth spurt, Ami says."

Oh, this was way too easy. "It's sure taking you long enough, you senile old biddy."

ChibiUsa dropped her manga. "You--you can't call me that! You're my mother! You're older than me!"

"Not yet." Pause. "Old bat."

ChibiUsa's eyes grew very wide and her face grew very red.

"Right now you're nearly a thousand years older than me, remember?" Usagi pointed out oh-so-innocently.

"It's not nearly a thousand, it's less than nine hundred!" ChibiUsa growled. "Baby!"

Usagi came back with the time-honored retort of sticking out her tongue at her opponent.

From there, things escalated to the inevitable pillow throwing, shrieking, hair pulling, giggling, and so on until Shingo roared something about how some people wanted to be able to sleep in on the weekend.

That was a major tactical error on his part. ChibiUsa and Usagi looked at each other with twin expressions of mischief and launched an impromptu drum recital on the wall they shared with Shingo's bedroom.

"Okay, okay! You win! Just don't start singing!" came the muffled surrender.

"Should we?" ChibiUsa asked.

"Nah. If we let him go back to sleep, we won't have to deal with his ugly face until noon at least."

"How much longer until breakfast? I want to play this one song for you before I forget."

"Ten minutes. This had better not be any of that weird stuff Hotaru likes to listen to."

"Not everything she likes is weird," ChibiUsa said as she switched out one CD for the other. "I think you'll like this."

ChibiUsa skipped through several songs until she found the one she wanted. All of the instruments were acoustic, which didn't thrill Usagi all that much. When the singing started, she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"It's in English!"

"It's still pretty. And besides, there's another reason I wanted you to hear this. Hotaru-chan and I thought the singer looks kind of like Naru. Here, catch!"

ChibiUsa tossed a CD case over to Usagi, who was able to catch it with only a little fumbling.

"Wow! You're right!" Kathy Celeste and Naru would never have passed for twins, but their faces were so similar that Usagi wasn't sure she could explain the subtle differences. "Of course, if Naru came home with a pierced eyebrow, her mom would ground her for a year."

Usagi opened the case and slid out the liner notes. As she hoped, there were more pictures inside. Some of them really looked like Naru, while others made the differences much clearer.

Also, even though she'd never admit it to ChibiUsa, the music really was pretty, once she got used to it. If there were some more upbeat songs on the album, she might even buy herself a copy.

After ChibiUsa had gone back to Crystal Tokyo, of course.

"If I promise to take care of it, can I take this to school tomorrow to show Naru? She'll freak! Oh! Look at this! She's got the cutest little baby girl!" Usagi chuckled evilly. "Naru will really freak when she sees that."

"It's Hotaru's CD, so you'll have to ask her. The prettiest song on here is one that Celeste wrote after her husband left her or died or something. Hotaru didn't know the details, and I can't read English, so..." ChibiUsa shrugged. "There's a picture of him somewhere in there. He's pretty hot."

"Really?" Usagi flipped through the booklet, no longer interested in the Naru look-alike.

When she found the picture, her knees wobbled and gave way, forcing her to sit down hard on the edge of her bed.

"I told you he was hot," ChibiUsa said smugly.

"No. That's not it. That's not it at all..." Usagi's voice was as shaky as her legs.

The photo was black and white, and the man's long hair was worn in a braid that draped over one shoulder, but Usagi knew at once that it was a rich chestnut and remembered what it looked like worn loose. The eyes she remembered had held none of the warmth that shone so clearly in the photo. Now, though, that warmth seemed absolutely natural as the man in the photo gazed adoringly at the little girl in his arms who was doing her best to stuff the end of her daddy's long braid into her mouth.

"Usagi? Usagi, are you okay? Say something!"

Usagi's mind snapped back to the present. "I think I know who the enemy is."

ChibiUsa nearly fell off the bed. "You figured it out?"

"Don't sound so surprised. I do have a brain after all. But it couldn't be him because he's dead. I was there!"

_But he had a wife! A baby girl! How were we supposed to know? Oh, God, this can't be happening..._

"You're not making any sense, Usagi. Who's dead?"

She reached for the phone and nearly knocked it off the desk. "I have to call Rei. She'll know what to do."

_She looks so much like Naru! Was he starting to remember who he was? Could the others have..._

No. She would not allow herself to think about that! Not now, not when it was too late, and what on earth was she going to tell Mamoru? She dialed as quickly as she could.

It felt like forever for even the first ring to go through.

"Ami-chan? What are you doing at Rei's place?... Oh, you're at your place! Sorry! Sorry! Well, even though you're not Rei, you still need to hear this. I figured out where we've seen the golem's mark and why it's just me, you, and Rei who recognized it."

She looked at the photo of Kathy Celeste's husband Michel, and made one last desperate wish that she was just being stupid again and was completely wrong about all of this and that it was nothing more than a strange coincidence.

And speaking of coincidences...

"Look, my communicator's going off and I can hear yours, so I gotta cut this short but I'm pretty sure that the golem's mark is the one that Nephrite used."

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks again to Luna Hope for all her help and encouragement. Also, many, many thanks and a warm welcome to Yumeko, my newest beta. 

Well, some mysteries are finally being solved, and a few others are simply getting deeper. Even more questions will be answered in the near future, but those answers are only going to cause problems for the characters, not solve them, I'm afraid.

FYI, just to give you an idea about how slow the process on this fic is, Sun's fish obsession and the resulting gags were all planned long before I ever saw "Finding Nemo."

General note to my readers. Feel free to read and review some of my other fic as well, especially "Descansos" (which happens to be set in the same Mooniverse as "Empire of the Sun.") This message brought to you by the Department of Shameless Self-Promotion.

"Moon Shining Kiss" (originally "Moon Blazing Kiss") came from some a Senshi Attack Generator someone linked to eons ago. In other words, I expended zero creativity in naming the attack. I can't find the link any more as I deleted it from my bookmark menu. Sorry.

Albums listened to during this chapter: Bob Dyer, "River Runs Outside My Door," and "Civil War Songs from the Western Border." Daniel Lanois, "Shine." Samite, "Tunula Eno." Edie Brickell, "Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars." Individual songs that were played on incessant repeat: Thomas Dolby, "One of Our Submarines." Eagles, "Journey of the Sorceror." Suzanne Vega, "Language," "Blood Makes Noise," and "Left of Center." The Cars, "Moving in Stereo." Luna, "Bonnie and Clyde." Steve McNaughton, "Great Southern Land." t.A.T.u., "How Soon is Now."


	16. Chains of Evidence

Editing of prior chapters is temporarily on hold as I double-check something about how I'm using honorifics. I was called out on a possible error in how one group of characters refer to another character, and I need dig out my DVDs.

Anyhow, here's a return to the actual mystery plotline! Rest of the author's notes (including much groveling about the long delay) are at the end, where they're easier to skip.

Disclaimer: Characters and concepts from "Sailor Moon" (and a few that were borrowed from "Homicide") are not mine. This story is written for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

* * *

**Sunday, July 8**

**8:30 a.m.**

Jason was knocked back into consciousness with the slamming of cupboard doors. It was a sound he instinctively associated with angry females--mother, sisters, girlfriends. It meant someone was mad at him about something that may or may not have been his fault. It also meant that someone was going to find some way to make him pay.

To his infinite relief, the sound was only annoying, not painful. He didn't think he'd had enough to drink last night to result in a hangover, but he'd felt so wretched by the time he passed out on Seidou's couch that he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd woken up with a splitting headache.

He did wake up with a stiff neck, though, no doubt because he'd used a small needlepoint chicken as a pillow.

All it had taken was two or three stiff drinks, and he'd been able to get out the rest of his story without feeling too much pain. He'd been a little tipsy, but not so much that he couldn't find his way back to Seidou's apartment or that he forgot to get her cigarettes.

Even so, he wasn't sure how much sense Seidou could have made of his ramblings. All he did know was that whenever she wasn't stabbing questions into his monologue, she was watching him through narrowed eyes, no doubt making due note of his transgressions like some malevolent Santa Claus adding names to the 'naughty' list.

Not long after he'd caught the story back up to where he'd woken up in Norfolk, he'd fallen asleep on her couch. God knew what Keisuke and Akiko would think of his absence last night. He hadn't even bothered to let them know he wouldn't be there for dinner, and he didn't think Seidou would have been charitable enough to cover for him in any way that would make him look good.

As he got up, he noted that no one had tenderly covered him with a blanket as he slept. No real surprise there. Seidou may have had about a billion hand-sewn quilts stashed around the place, but he got the distinct impression that she valued even the plainest one of them far more than his miserable, stinking life.

Before braving the beast making noise in the kitchen, he went in search of the toilet and then to the bathroom to wash up. As he feared, he had faint indentations all down the left side of his face from that damned needlepoint chicken. The red spot in his eye hadn't faded any, either. Great. He had no idea how he was going to explain that to Makoto tonight.

When he finally mustered the courage to enter the kitchen, Seidou greeted him with a mug of coffee and a wary look. Jason tried not to notice that the mug was emblazoned with a parade of chubby little geese. He especially tried not to notice that the geese wore cute blue ribbons around their necks.

Of course, Seidou was already showered and dressed. Her brown pantsuit did nice things for her eyes, but otherwise only served to accentuate her almost aggressive plainness. He vaguely wondered why she was dressed for work on a Sunday, but wasn't curious enough to ask.

"You realize that with everything you told me yesterday, this case has become a _hell_ of a lot more complicated," Seidou accused him without any other preamble.

Jason accepted the coffee gratefully and took a seat at the kitchen table. He was tempted to make some crack about her remark being the understatement of the century, but if Seidou was in a halfway decent mood, he didn't want to wreck it.

Seidou poured herself a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. The pack of cigarettes Jason had bought for her sat unopened between them on the table. Seidou reached out and flicked her finger against the corner of the pack, spinning it around a couple of times.

"Keisuke called last night after you passed out. He's got a possible lead on how Renko may have gotten his Japanese citizenship. He had to get my permission to call a couple of bigwigs at home at some ungodly hour. Once he gets his hands on some concrete information, he's going to call me. And, speaking of Keisuke, you and I have to figure out how to tell him about all this--monsters, Senshi, _everything_. He needs to know what we're up against."

For a moment, Jason could only stare at her. "Are you nuts? You want to tell Keisuke about this? About _me_?" He struck out desperately for any safe haven. "What makes you think he'll believe you? He'll think you've gone completely 'round the bend."

Seidou grinned devilishly. "No he won't," she said.

Her hand jerked up, dashing the contents of her coffee mug right at his face.

A reflexive mental push deflected the scalding hot coffee away from his face and onto the floor.

The fact that he also ducked and raised his arm as if to protect his face had more to do with his father's coaching than any natural reflex.

"What the hell was that for!" The coffee pooled at his feet.

"Huh. Nice work," Seidou said, nodding in grudging approval. "The flinching was a nice touch. I think once you've treated him to a little demonstration of what you can do, Keisuke will believe that we're up against something a bit out of the ordinary."

Jason's face grew hot with anger. "Look, Seidou-san. Last night was a big exception. I don't go around telling just anyone about--"

"I trust Keisuke," she said sharply. "More to the point, _he_ trusts _me_. I am not about to betray that trust and let him blunder into a situation like the one we got into yesterday with no idea of what to expect or what to do. So, you'd better get used to the idea that you're going to perform a couple of your party tricks for him, because I'm not giving you a choice in the matter. Meanwhile, we've got to consider the very unwelcome possibility that this case is tied up with the fact that our boy Chiba is the reincarnation of this Endymion person you've been telling me about."

Seidou got up and refilled her mug. She then tossed Jason a couple of rags. He made no move to catch them.

"You were the one who threw the coffee," he pointed out.

Seidou simply glared at him until he picked up the rags and bent over to mop up the remains of the coffee. Just once, he thought, he'd like to stand up to her and remain standing.

Seidou picked up her coffee, and blew on the surface to cool it. "So if Chiba's the reincarnated Prince of Earth..." Her brows drew together and she looked at him over the rim of her mug. "Hold on. If there's a Prince, does that mean that there was also an Emperor?"

"We--_they_--always referred to him as 'King'," Jason said, supplying the English word that best matched the term his memories wanted to use. 'Emperor' sounded too warlike and somehow, not sacramental enough. Seidou might well have thought the opposite, but they weren't there to debate etymology. "I'm not sure how or when the title would have been passed on to Endymion. I'm not even sure which of them died first--Endymion or his father."

Even though his memories of that time had been returned to him, those last days were so chaotic he wasn't entirely clear about what had happened when. The important thing was that it _had_ happened.

"It's probably not important," Seidou said. "Back to what I was saying: If Chiba's supposed to be the crown prince of the entire planet, do you think that could explain why someone might want him dead? Maybe _he_ was the target all along, and the parents were just collateral damage." She stopped and frowned at him, more curious than concerned. "Hey--you okay?"

Jason didn't think so. His vision had grayed out for a moment, and he clutched the edge of the kitchen table to keep himself upright. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for the chills and dizziness to pass.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute." He took a deep breath. "It's weird... When you mentioned the possibility of him dying, I went all loopy for a second."

"What? Why? Are you that fond of the guy or something?" Seidou asked.

"That's not it. Like I told you, I've only met him a couple of times in this lifetime, and not under the best of circumstances at that." He ignored the churning in his stomach. "Let's just say that the idea of the King or even the Prince dying... It's pretty damned unsettling, that's all."

It was a piss-poor explanation, and he knew it. Still, he didn't know how to get across the gut-deep knowledge that if the Earth's rightful king were to die, truly and permanently die, the entire planet would suffer immensely.

Seidou picked up the pack of cigarettes and toyed with the tab that would rip off the cellophane. She very ostentatiously refrained from pulling on it, however. "Huh. Funny you should say that. The kid actually _did_ die on the way to the hospital--a couple of times, in fact. Fortunately, the paramedics were able to bring him back."

Jason shivered. Hard to believe that... He sat up sharply. "Hold on. This was August, fourteen years ago, right? August sixth?"

He would have been fourteen. It was early morning in Baltimore, which made sense given the estimated time of the accident here in Japan.

"I think I may have felt something when he died," he said, more to himself than to Seidou.

He had been running downstairs when it happened. Mom was making waffles for Missy's birthday breakfast, and he wanted to get to the kitchen before one of his brothers snagged his share. He was only a third of the way down when he was slammed by a shockwave of pain that hit him like a baseball bat upside the head. He didn't remember anything after that, but apparently he'd fallen the rest of the way down the stairs and conked his head but good on the newel post.

He'd taken worse falls than that and walked away from them without a care, but this time, he'd been knocked stone cold unconscious. From what Jake told him later, Mom was checking his pupils when he suddenly went into violent seizures--so violent he wound up thwacking her across the face and giving her a massive nosebleed.

According to Josh, who'd had the common sense to keep well back from the excitement, things just went downhill from there. Missy was huddled in a corner and screaming so hysterically that when the ambulance came, the paramedics at first tried to take _her_ instead of Jason. Then, while prying open the old metal box that held the first aid kit, Emma somehow managed cut her hand badly enough to require stitches, and then _she_ started screaming and flailing around, splashing blood all over the living room, so much so that they were still finding spots in odd places years later. Poor Jake was so freaked out by everything that when he called 911 he started babbling at the operator in Japanese. Meanwhile, James and Jeremy, who were still too young to understand the seriousness of the situation, kept demanding to know when the waffles would be ready.

Then, as if to add the crowning touch, the waffle iron--totally forgotten in the chaos--caught fire.

All in all, Missy's ninth birthday had been a most memorable day, so memorable he'd almost forgotten the wave of pain and anguish that had literally knocked him off his feet.

And, now that he thought about it, it was possible the handful of massive, blinding migraines he'd had after his shooting might not have been related to stress or trauma after all.

"Huh. Interesting," Seidou said. He wasn't sure if she really was interested or not. "So, to go back to my theory, if they were after Chiba himself, and not... Damn!" She tossed the cigarettes back onto the table. "It doesn't work. Whoever engineered the accident took the time to remove the parents' identification and disfigure the bodies, but they left the kid alone. It would have taken less time to kill him or to get him out of there than it did to do all that other fancy messing around with the crime scene. Hell, they even removed the VIN numbers from the car."

"That could have been done when they cut the brake line," Jason reminded her. "Maybe whoever it was who hid their identities ran out of time."

Seidou thought about it, then shook her head. "Good point, but remember that the guy who called in the wreck is also our number one suspect for having caused the wreck in the first place. You think he would have waited to make the call until the job was done."

"Maybe Renko's hand was forced and he had to make the call earlier than planned. It's possible someone had parked at the overlook on the other side and he didn't want to risk them seeing something they shouldn't."

Seidou leaned back in her chair. She picked up the cigarettes and tapped them against the edge of the table. "Two points to Detective Wright. That's a good theory. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense that Renko and his cronies--or bosses, for that matter--lost control of the scene."

"Maybe they didn't want to kill Chiba," Jason suggested. "If they knew he was going to be Earth's king, that would be a pretty powerful motive for wanting him alive."

"How so?"

"When I was growing up, the Catholic chaplain at Yokosuka was a Jesuit--a real hard-ass--and he had this creepy little saying that went something like 'give me a child until he is seven, and I will give you the man.' Think about it for a minute. What if they wanted to be able to raise Chiba to be their loyal stooge? That would give whoever took him access to a whole lot of power."

Instead of praising him for his brilliant conclusion, Seidou looked at him as if he'd just fallen off the short bus. "That's a pretty theory _except_ for the fact that they sent him off a cliff. The odds of him surviving that would have been pretty low. Of course, it could just be they weren't expecting him to be in the car in the first place..." She sighed deeply. "I can't begin to tell you how much I hope I'm wrong about this and that Chiba's parents died because they pissed off someone in the Yakuza or something like that. Then we'd at least stand a chance of putting together a case that might actually make it to trial."

"I hate to break it to you, Seidou-san, but the instant those things attacked us at the nursing home, the chances of this being a normal case went down to about zero."

"Oh, come on, Wonder Boy. Be a sport and let me wallow in denial for just a little while longer, huh?" She drained the rest of her coffee. "Should I make another pot?"

"Please. I generally need about three cups to get going in the morning."

"I already gave you two," she said innocently.

"Yeah, but only one of those was actually in a mug," he shot back.

"Details, details," she sang. "Anyhow, I got the distinct impression you recognized those mud creatures. What were they?"

While Seidou prepared a second pot of coffee, Jason did his best to explain. The concepts were relatively simple, but to get at them, he had to dig deep into the memories that had been shoved into his head after he'd been shot.

"There's a couple of different words that were used for them, depending on who you'd ask," he explained. "My past self would have called them _eidola_. Basically, they're a sort of evil spirit that you can bind to an object. The marking you saw on their foreheads is the thing that makes the binding stick."

"So you think your old buddy Michel made these things?"

Jason hesitated. "M-maybe."

Seidou raised one eyebrow.

"Okay--the markings on their foreheads looked like his signature, but other than that, they just didn't seem to be his style. For one thing, the creatures that attacked us didn't seem to have any will or intelligence of their own. They acted more like they were operating off some sort of computer program."

While he thought through the next part of the explanation, Jason got up and helped himself to another cup of coffee, pushing the carafe aside so the coffee dripped straight into the cup. A small flick of his gift kept any splatter contained. "Basically, there are three kinds of _eidola_. With the most common kind of _eidolon_--that's the singular--the maker binds an intelligent but intangible spirit to an object that already has something in common with that spirit. In other words, you wouldn't try to bind a water spirit to, I don't know, a furnace or something like that. You'd hook it up to, I don't know, a hydrant, a swimming pool, a fountain--you get the idea. The spirit then shapes the object into a body that suits it in some way. That's the kind that Michel's past self used to make. You get a lot of bang for the buck, since the bound spirit's what provides all the energy for the _eidolon_."

"What's the catch?"

He shrugged. "Lots of power, not so much control. That's where the other kind of _eidolon_--the kind we saw--comes in. It's harder to make than the other kind from what I understand. For one thing, a body has to be crafted for it, and there are certain rules as to what needs to go into that body to make it work. Blood, mud, shit, clay, minerals, crystals, stuff like that. In other words, there's a physical limit on how strong you can make the things. The other problem is that instead of binding an intelligent spirit to the body, you have to put a bit of your own energy into the thing along with whatever commands you'd want to give it. You get more obedience, but it also takes a lot out of you and you can't give the things very complicated commands, or ones that require them to have to figure stuff out."

Seidou was watching him, cheek resting on one fist, entranced by the explanation. When she had her eyes half-closed the way she did, it paradoxically made her pale hazel eyes appear even lighter, almost golden. He was certain that some poor perp had made the mistake of assuming that half-closed eyes meant half-asleep detective.

The occasional flicker of those hooded eyes suggested that she was getting some commentary from the voices in her head. "Tell me about the third kind," she said, and he wasn't entirely sure the request had originated with Seidou.

He shrugged. "Dunno. All I know was that making the third kind of _eidolon_ was considered to be a bad thing the way that eating babies is generally considered to be a bad thing. Mukhtar--I mean Michel, the guy he used to be, that is--went into this big, dramatic 'Ptui! We do not foul our mouths with talk of such vile things!' routine when my past self asked him for details."

"Ah." She seemed satisfied with his non-answer.

"Anyhow, the other great thing about the kind of _eidolon_ we saw is that if you destroy its binding mark, you also destroy the magic that binds the energy to its physical form, and the whole thing falls to bits. All you need is good aim and a decent amount of force, and there you go. The first kind's a bit trickier to get rid of. You generally need some powerful and specific mojo to break the binding _and_ get rid of whatever's animating the _eidolon_. Bullets won't work." He shrugged. It felt weird to talk about this stuff as if it was normal. "Unless they're magic bullets, of course."

Seidou moaned and let her head sink forward into her hands. "Spirits? Magic? Telling Keisuke about all this stuff is one thing. But trying to explain it to Harada-san? Hah! I'd rather shoot myself."

She sat back and looked Jason square in the eye. "Forget bringing it to trial. Harada-san officially _hates_ stuff like this. You should have been here when all the craziness was going on at the Infinity Delta or when that freaky circus came to town and we had that big outbreak of totally random violence in Juuban. Oh, and don't even get me _started_ on the whole UFO scare a few years ago!" she said, slicing one hand through the air as if to strike the notion dead. "I thought Harada-san was going to have an aneurysm any time anyone brought it up."

Jason tried to imagine how Gee would have reacted if Baltimore was suddenly invaded by a flock of dragons or something. That thought was then derailed by a weirdly entertaining image of Frank Pembleton dragging a demon into the Box and getting into a wrangle over ethics and theology.

Obviously, he had gotten nowhere enough sleep last night.

"How did you deal with it?" he asked. "Blame it on gang members who were high on PCP?"

"Heh. Cute. He'd _like_ to, I think. Anyhow, whenever it looks like something might be the fault of ghosties and ghoulies, official policy--in the Homicide department at least--is just to ignore it until it goes away. Then, when it does finally go away, we get to bitch about the Sailor Senshi hogging all the glory." Seidou slid her pack of Mild Sevens back and forth across the table. Jason wished she would just light up and get it over with. "There's a handful of Senshi fans on the force, including Superintendent Sakurada--and how that dimwit got to be Superintendent, I'll never know--but most of us don't like dealing with the weird shit if we can avoid it."

His own experience on the force had taught him that most of his fellow detectives got distinctly twitchy whenever the 'woo-woo' factor got too high on a case. He'd nearly screwed himself but good when he used his gift to retrieve a bit of evidence that was about to be blown clear across Charles Street by a gust of wind. He'd been careless, but he still wasn't sure whether it was accidentally or on purpose.

In the end, it didn't matter. Rene Sheppard had gotten a good, long look as the scrap of paper had jinked perpendicular to the wind and landed right in Jason's hand. Rene never said anything, not directly, but not long after, she'd requested a new partner. Everyone assumed it was because they were sleeping together, but that part of their relationship broke off along with their work partnership.

"All weirdness aside, it sounds like Keisuke might have dug up an old fashioned, weirdness-free lead for us to follow." Seidou turned to look at the kitchen clock. "You may want to head back to Keisuke's place and make yourself presentable. I want you along with us in case the lead isn't as weirdness-free as I'm hoping."

"How long do you think this will take?" Jason asked before he realized what he was getting himself into. "I've got a date tonight, and I'd rather not cancel if I can avoid it."

"You're going out with the Kino girl?" Seidou asked with deceptive casualness.

"How did you know _that_?" he stammered. Just how talkative had he been after those drinks, anyway?

No, just two (okay, three) drinks wouldn't have made him _that_ stupid. He'd just been suckered in by the oldest interrogation trick in the book. "You didn't know, did you? You guessed."

"It wasn't hard," she said, smirking at him. "Unless you hit things off better than I thought with Mishima-kun, Kino-kun is the only girl you've met around here. You two seemed to click when you met in the hall the other day."

"Look, I'm not going to ask how you found out about that little meet-up in the hallway, because I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."

Then again...

"Okay, I _do_ want to know, but only if it doesn't have anything to do with the thing in your head," he said, circling one hand at his temple. "You're scary enough as it is without being psychic."

Seidou's smirk grew even more pronounced and she looked far too pleased with herself. "Nope, nothing wrong with me besides having an uninvited imaginary guest." She looked up and to the side as he'd seen her do a few times before, then grimaced. "Oh, dear. I think I've hurt its feelings," she said sweetly. "As for how I knew, it's simple. Surveillance tapes."

"Ah."

"I also noticed that you seemed to recognize a couple of her friends. So, do you want to tell me--"

"No." He held up his hands as if to ward off a blow, and prayed that Seidou would cut him a break on just this one little thing. When he started speaking again, he could barely keep the tremble out of his voice. "I don't want to tell because it's not my place to tell. Look, if there's even a _chance_ it has some bearing on the case, I'll tell you what I know about Kino's friends, but I don't want to drag them into this if I can avoid it."

For a moment, he was afraid she'd press the issue, but she seemed content to let it lie. For now.

"You've caused them enough trouble already? Is that it?" she guessed, once again hitting frighteningly close to the mark. He could detect neither approval nor disapproval in her voice.

"Yeah." He smiled weakly. "Something like that."

"Oh, and as for that date tonight? Call it off."

"What? Why?" Until then, he hadn't known just how much he was looking forward to getting together with Makoto that evening. Seidou was crazy if she thought he--

"Listen, Wonder Boy. I don't know her all that well, but I do know that I'm not crazy about Kino-kun getting involved with you, even if all you're after is dinner and a movie. Let's just count the reasons why, shall we?" She started ticking off the reasons on her fingers. "You're ten years older than her. You're a _gaijin_. And there's a damned good chance that you're a borderline alcoholic _and_ an accessory after the fact to murder. I wouldn't call those the ingredients for a good match, and that's before we get into anything even resembling the paranormal."

The accusations stung, of course, but only one of them came as a surprise. "_Gaijin_?" He looked at Seidou through narrowed eyes. "Funny. I never would have pegged you for a bigot."

Seidou turned the unopened pack of cigarettes over and over in her hand, overtly taunting him with her self-control. "I'm not, but for you, I'll make an exception. Also, in case you didn't notice, the _gaijin_ thing was the least of my objections, Wonder Boy. If you really want to avoid causing more trouble for her friends, then stay the hell away from her. Also, I--not you--will decide if I need to hear more about Kino and her friends. Anyhow, there's no time for that now. You need to get going and--"

The phone rang. Seidou eagerly got up from the table, holding up one finger to tell Jason not to go anywhere until she got back.

"Seidou here..." She grinned. "Keisuke! Just the man I wanted. Do you have anything good to tell me about Renko's citizenship?" As she listened, she grabbed a pen and an index card, and began jotting down notes. "National Museum, Western... Uh huh... Okada Yuuto, ten o' clock... Yeah, I got it... Well, _that's_ interesting! Even though he's dead, it'll be fun to put another nail or five in his coffin." She was positively purring. "I know where get hold of Wright, so don't worry about that."

She hung up and sauntered back to the table, her face alight with malicious glee.

"Good news?"

"And then some," Seidou said, grinning like the proverbial canary-eating cat. "We've got a beautiful and not at all supernatural paper trail on Renko's citizenship _and_ tangible evidence of a nice, juicy bribe in the form of lots of artwork. _Russian_ artwork. Do you know where the National Museum of Western Art is?"

Before Jason could answer, the phone rang again. Seidou glared at it.

"This had better not be a snag," she snarled as she snapped up the phone. "Seidou here."

Jason tried to follow the sequence of expressions that crossed her face. Puzzlement. Shock. Anger. Then, finally, a twisted sort of amusement.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll be sending my forensics team as well, so make sure your people give them full access to the scene when they get there... No, that is not negotiable. Full access, and you'd damn well better keep your detective from messing up the scene before I get there."

She hung up the phone and ran both hands down her face in exasperation.

"What's up?" he asked. "Nothing good, it sounds like."

"Someone torched Renko's nursing home last night," she said, nearly giddy with frustration. "Renko's dead. I'm off to Kamakura. You get yourself back to Keisuke's house and make yourself presentable. I want the two of you at the Western Art Museum by ten o' clock to meet with this Okada Yuuto person."

It may have been suicidal, but Jason couldn't resist getting at least one jab. "You really want me to go? And here I thought you didn't trust me."

"I don't, but if one of those pieces of art turns out to be hosting one of those 'idol' things you told me about, I want someone there who has half a chance of dealing with it. Besides, even though I don't trust you, I haven't written you off completely. Yet."

* * *

**Sunday, July 8, 8:40 a.m.**

They had only been on the bus for five minutes. It felt more like hours.

Rei made a conscious effort not to keep looking over at Hotaru. From time to time, though, her glance flicked sideways, always showing her the same thing: Hotaru, sitting primly with her chin pressed against folded hands, staring down the length of the bus at nothing in particular. Hotaru's face was perfectly still, but it was hardly peaceful.

Other than reaching out to rest her hand on Hotaru's shoulder, just as a way of reminding the other girl she was there, Rei left Hotaru alone. Last night, a casual "are you all right?" got a snap and snarl in response.

Other than that, though, Hotaru had been the perfect houseguest, unfailingly and naturally polite, if a little withdrawn. She'd had a long, long bath, then sat with Rei and shared a pot of chamomile tea out on the porch. They could hear the sounds of late-night celebrations in the distance, and the occasional pop of fireworks, but it was all distant enough that it faded into the white-noise hush of traffic and cicadas. It was peaceful, and comfortable.

It was also when Rei made her one mistake. Hotaru had apologized quickly and mostly sincerely, and Rei thought they would spend the rest of the night in not-quite-comfortable silence. Still, Hotaru seemed to relax a little as she breathed in the grassy-sweet smell of her tea. It hadn't taken Rei long to see the sense of Hotaru's request to stay at the shrine. Hotaru wanted quiet, and comfort, and a small measure of peace without having to demand or fight for it. Oh, the others meant well, of course, but if Rei's simple question could set Hotaru off like that, then Ami's curiosity, Mako-chan's or Usagi's solicitousness, or her adoptive parents' worry would have been like a match thrown into a pile of dry leaves.

When Rei got up to refill the teapot, Hotaru broke the silence so gently her question seemed to be an echo from the _tap_ of her cup being set on the table.

"Rei-san, have your dreams told you anything about who Saturn used to be? Back when we were first..." She shrugged with just one shoulder, as if it were the least important question in the world. Her voice betrayed no curiosity, just a tight thread of anxiety. "Look, of course I know what happened in the end, but was there anything else?"

Rei's eyebrows went up and she blinked a few times as she froze in place. "Hold that thought," she said at last, and went to get more tea.

_Was_ there anything in her dream that might signify Saturn? Not for the first time, Rei wished her dreams were as prosaic as Ami's.

When she returned with another pot of tea (and a small plate of florentines, just because) Rei had her answer prepared. It hadn't taken long.

"To be honest, nothing has jumped out at me. I saw more than a few of images of destruction," she admitted without fanfare, as Hotaru would not appreciate being coddled or 'protected' from the truth, "but nothing that made me think of the Glaive."

That got a frown, one Rei couldn't decipher. "I didn't mean the Glaive," Hotaru said, clearly fighting not to sound petulant. "I meant _Saturn_. The old Saturn. Saturn wasn't _just_ the Glaive-bearer."

There was a brief pause, then a "was she?" that Rei wasn't even sure she heard.

Rei sipped at her tea and thought things over. The fact that Hotaru was having this sort of, well, existential crisis at this time was troubling. Rei remembered having more than her share of such moments at Hotaru's age, but the timing was not reassuring.

It would not be safe to ignore the question. A fire reading would bring the fastest answers, but that thought brought with it the prickle of thousands of insect feet and was dismissed in a trice.

"I'll do a tarot reading for you," Rei said. Then, at Hotaru's hopeful look, she added: "Tomorrow. I need to be rested to give you a proper reading."

There was a flicker of rebellion in Hotaru's gaze, but she accepted the answer with a sharp nod.

Besides, Rei would need time to think of the proper signifier for Hotaru. For some reason, one did not leap immediately to mind.

They went to bed not long after that. Rei started to offer Hotaru a choice between staying in her room or one of the shrine's guest rooms, but she barely even offered the first alternative before Hotaru agreed to it. Rei chose not to comment. She simply pushed her futon aside to make room for the spare and let Hotaru take care of arranging the covers.

For a long time, Rei listened to Hotaru force her breathing into a regular pattern. Sham sleep, she thought, and before she could tell if Hotaru had passed into real sleep or not, Rei herself fell asleep.

That night, she dreamed of cool dry air and a sky that shaded from lavender down to rusty pink at the horizon. She dreamed of a grove of trees, heavy and bronze with ripening fruit and dying leaves.

Beyond that, nothing. Nothing to tell her about their current situation or Hotaru's dilemma. She still didn't even have a good idea of what signifier to use for the reading she had promised.

When she woke up around six-thirty--late, for her--Hotaru was already up, her bedding neatly folded and placed against the wall. Rei sighed and got up to see where she'd gone to. On her way out, she grabbed the silk bag that contained her favorite working deck.

The card most closely aligned with the planet Saturn was Death. It was the first one that came to mind, but Rei didn't feel entirely comfortable with that choice. Unfortunately, there was no way to be sure if her discomfort was due to intuition, or due to the events surrounding the last time the card had appeared. Death didn't always mean 'death,' but when Galaxia attacked, they _had_ all died. Unless she decided to go with the 'Hello Kitty' tarot Minako had gotten her as a joke, there was no way for the card _not _to look grim.

Three other cards had come to mind, one major and two minor arcana. None of those seemed entirely right, though. One, in fact, seemed laughably wrong, but Rei couldn't shake the notion from her mind.

When she entered the kitchen, she found Hotaru staring grimly at a half-brewed pot of coffee as if willing it to go faster.

"How did you sleep?" Rei asked. "Oh, the coffee maker has a thing on it so you can take the carafe out before it's sfinished brewing."

"Badly." Hotaru didn't even hesitate before pulling the carafe and pouring a cup. Without being asked, she poured one for Rei (who honestly would have preferred tea). "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened yesterday."

"I'm not surprised. Did you still want to try the tarot reading we talked about?"

There was a brief pause, then a hesitant nod. Hotaru didn't meet Rei's gaze, instead staring blearily at the steam rising up from her coffee.

"After breakfast, then?" Rei suggested.

Hotaru looked up then, smiled faintly, and said that would be fine, and did Rei need any help getting breakfast ready?

Fortunately, Hotaru thought miso soup and rice sounded wonderful, and she pretended to show interest in how Rei prepared it, even though Rei knew perfectly well that Michiru at least was comfortable with traditional cookery.

Once the breakfast dishes were put away and the table wiped down and carefully dried, Rei put the blue silk bag at the exact center of the table. She and Hotaru sat opposite each other, Hotaru keeping her hands tightly folded in her lap. She did not take her eyes from the bag.

"We don't have to do this, you know."

Hotaru licked her lips, opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head. "_I _do. Let's start."

Rei pulled the bag towards her and slid out the deck. She riffled through the cards until she found the four she wanted. Deliberately, and without letting Hotaru catch a glimpse of their faces, she tapped them together until the edges were perfectly even with each other, then slid them across the table until they were at dead center.

"This is you," she said. "A representation of you, that is. You don't know who you are, or what you're supposed to be, right? That's why you're doing this?"

Hotaru's eyebrows drew together. "Shouldn't I just pick one at random, then?"

Rei had already thought about that, and she debated whether or not she should just go with the idea. But she dismissed it once more, and wondered if it was only out of cowardice. She did notice that Hotaru hadn't asked what the four cards were.

"I'm hoping which one will become clear through the reading--of course, it could be that it won't be just _one _of them," she said primly as she shuffled the deck back into random order. She then handed the deck to Hotaru. Hotaru didn't take it. "It's not an exact science. You might have a different signifier depending on where you are in life, or you truly might be two in combination. Go on--you need to shuffle them while thinking of your question."

Hotaru took the cards and tried to shuffle them in classic fashion, but the size of the cards and thickness of the deck stymied her. In the end, she simply intercut them with each other, much like a young child with clumsy fingers might try to deal with a traditional deck.

"Here you go. I hope I didn't bend them."

Rei shrugged, dismissing Hotaru's concern even though she'd been thinking the same thing herself. "Let's start with your basic situation, then."

The first card went out, face-up on top of the stack of four.

The Hermit.

Hotaru rolled her eyes. "I could have told you _that," _she muttered.

Rei's first thought was something along the lines of _could be worse_, but any second thought was interrupted by an all-too-familiar beeping. Hotaru was on her feet and out of the room before Rei could gather her wits.

Leaving the cards where they were, Rei followed. When she got back to the bedroom, Hotaru had her communicator out of her bag.

"Hello?"

Rei held her breath. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she recognized Setsuna's voice.

"Is something wrong? You guys aren't mad that I stayed at Rei-san's last night, are you?"

"Oh, for goodness sake," Rei muttered. She was about to ask what was going on, but Hotaru's face went from simply pale to ashen as Setsuna spoke. Even after Setsuna went silent, Hotaru remained still, shaking herself back to attention at a faint query at the other end of the line.

"I'll be right there. Is Haruka-papa going to be okay?"

Rei inhaled sharply, breath hissing between her teeth. Hotaru clicked off the communicator. Before Rei knew what was happening, Hotaru had pulled her into a swift, rib-cracking hug.

"Hotaru-chan?" Rei's hand hovered over Hotaru's back hesitantly before coming down to stroke slow circles. "What is it? What did Setsuna-san say?"

"I need to go home. Setsuna-mama says they need me," she said into Rei's shoulder.

They left quickly. The tarot cards remained where they were placed, five cards pulled out from the deck.

Once they got off the bus, they slipped out of sight and took on Senshi form to cover the last half-mile as quickly as they could. It also allowed them to take a shortcut, traversing a small gorge and coming at the house from the back. Once they leapt the hedge bordering the back of the Outers' property, the piles of rubble, torn up ground, and big hole in the kitchen wall made it clear what had happened to Haruka.

Saturn shifted the Glaive to a ready position, and made a point of walking past the rubble as if she didn't even notice it.

When they walked in, Setsuna came running from the front of the house. No one bothered with any greetings. "I've got her in the living room," she said quickly.

Saturn pushed past Setsuna and hurried to where Haruka was, transforming out of Senshi form as she went. Setsuna caught Mars's eye and the two of them held back just a moment.

"Thank you for looking after her last night," Setsuna said. "How do you think she's doing?"

Mars shook her head. "Not well. The fact that her attacks don't work on the golems... It has her badly shaken."

Setsuna's expression shifted from worried to simply grim. "We may have an explanation for that. Not a full answer, but an explanation. A Dead Scream and a World Shaking had no effect on the two golems that attacked us this morning. I had to use my staff to eradicate their marks. One of them nearly broke Haruka's neck before I could destroy it--she's not out of the woods yet. Ami-chan said she might have a crushed trachea, and who knows what else might have happened." Setsuna dragged her fingers through her hair. The usual tidy bun had slipped apart into a loose coil with a stray lock pointing straight out to the side. "We've been through worse, oh, _much _worse, but this... I can see why Hotaru-chan was so rattled. It was like being in a dream where you need to run, but you can't get your legs to move. I can't explain it."

"You're babbling."

Setsuna shook her head, and the two of them finally followed Saturn into the living room. "I know, I know. I was holding it together until now, but now that Hotaru's here to look after Haruka..."

Mars couldn't get a good look at Haruka, because Hotaru was by her side, already at work. Still, the glimpse she caught of deep red and angry purple--so livid and harsh in contrast to Hotaru's pale fingers.

Those fingers seemed to be having a hard time remaining steady.

"Why didn't you call 110?" Mars demanded. "You had no idea how quickly Saturn and I were going to get here! An ambulance would have gotten here faster than we would have, even in Senshi--"

"What would we tell them when they _did_ show up?" Setsuna asked wearily. "Besides, if I called 110, it wouldn't just be an ambulance. We'd also get the police."

Mars huffed in disgust at her own stupidity. If she'd thought about it for more than a second, she'd have realized that for herself.

Other than a quick _shut up_ glare at the two intruders, Hotaru remained focused on her work. Haruka's breathing began to sound less labored, and the bruising faded noticeably with no warning. Some darkness was still there, places where the blood had pooled under the skin and could not be coaxed back into place.

Hotaru shuddered as another wave of power left her. The transfer of power was something that Mars felt rather than saw, but the sensation suggested a heat shimmer going out from Hotaru's heart and down through her arms and hands into Haruka's neck.

"That felt like bones healing," Hotaru said, a little hoarsely.

Mars and Setsuna exchanged horrified looks.

After a few minutes, Hotaru slowly lifted her hands from Haruka's neck and chest, and she slumped down to sit on the floor, head resting against Haruka's shoulder.

"That's all I can do for now," Hotaru said, weariness overtaking any sound of anxiety in her voice. "In a couple of hours, I might be able to do a bit more. Where's Michiru-mama?"

Setsuna shook her head slowly and hugged herself. "We don't know. She's not answering her communicator. I tried again just after we called you and Rei, and then just five minutes ago."

"She's at rehearsal," Haruka rasped.

"No talking," Setsuna said in a fashion that suggested she'd had to say that quite a few times already that morning. "I would have thought she'd have her communicator on and with her, rehearsal or not, but who knows."

Habit ran strong, Mars thought, but the older senshi had always seemed far more professional. "Is there any other way to get hold of her? Something with the talismans, maybe?"

Setsuna blinked a few times. "Possibly." She sounded more intrigued than dismissive, but did not pursue the idea any further.

"Setsuna-mama, do you need any help?" Hotaru asked. She sounded half-asleep.

Setsuna's grasped her own left wrist loosely, and she started to say something, but cut whatever it was off with a shake of her head. "When you're rested, make sure that you've done all you can for Haruka, first." Then, as a pre-emptive strike, she pointed at Haruka and said, "NO talking."

Haruka sneered and rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang, and Setsuna nodded to Mars, silently asking her to deal with it. On her way to the door, Mars shifted back from senshi form, just in case.

When she opened the door, Ami and Makoto were standing there, mid-conversation.

"...didn't have time to tell me much more than that," Ami was saying. "But if she's right, and it _is_ him... oh, hello, Rei-chan."

Makoto echoed her greeting. Both looked sounded a bit shocked and shaken, with wavering smiles and clipped voices. Ami, normally the more composed one, was more rattled than Makoto.

"Come on in," Rei said, stepping back and pulling the door wide open. "Who's 'him?' What's going on?"

"Nephrite."

Rei's eyes went wide with shock. Ami just nodded grimly in response. Neither of them had to say anything about those oh-so-familiar marks on the golems or explain what was now painfully obvious. Makoto just stood there, trying not to look too confused.

"Usagi-chan was the one who figured it out, believe it or not." Ami and Makoto came inside and slipped off their shoes. They both seemed a little out of breath. "There's more to the story, from what I gather, but we need to wait for Usagi-chan to get here. She wasn't all that coherent--I haven't heard her that upset in quite a while."

Well, having one of their first enemies return from the grave could explain that, Rei supposed. Ami plunked her bag down on the hall tree and pulled out two small specimen jars. Each had what looked like a few shards of glass rattling around inside.

When they got to the living room, a pointed glare from Haruka indicated that expressions of sympathy were not entirely welcome.

"Sorry we couldn't be here to help out," Makoto said.

Haruka waved a hand in a classic 'whatever' gesture.

"Setsuna-san, where did you put the crystals you and Haruka found?" Ami put the two specimen jars down on the counter.

"They're on the kitchen counter. We didn't check the other golem for anything. I hope that's not a problem."

Ami shook her head. "I'll go out and look later, but I think I know what we'll find." She went out to the kitchen. There was the sound of drawers and cabinets opening and closing. When she came back into the living room, she had a juice glass with her. She placed it on the table next to the specimen jars, and Rei could see the four not-quite-clear fragments of crystal inside it. "Setsuna-san, would you mind?"

Setsuna stepped forward and leaned over the coffee table. As she drew near, one crystal in each set of four darkened. When she held her hand over the crystals, they went the rest of the way to utter black, releasing a pulse of red-violet light as Setsuna drew back.

"Hotaru-chan?"

Hotaru left Haruka's side reluctantly, and held her hand out over the crystals. Three more crystals glowed in the same dusky violet color as Saturn's sigil.

At Ami's prompting, Hotaru brought one of the jars over to Haruka. One of the crystals turned a deep, gold-flecked blue.

"Four crystals in each group," Rei said, looking at Setsuna, Haruka, and Hotaru in turn. "One for each of you and Michiru. I think it's pretty obvious what color the fourth crystal will turn once Michiru gets here."

"I'm going to try her again." Setsuna jabbed at the buttons on her communicator.

It beeped once. Twice. Three times.

On the fourth beep, there was an answer, and Setsuna's knees nearly gave way in relief.

"Michiru! Are you all right! I've been trying to get hold of you for hours!"

That wasn't entirely true, but Rei knew it must have felt like it.

Rei was standing close enough to hear Michiru's dozy response.

"I'm fine. I was at rehearsal, and my communicator was in my purse. It was probably drowned out by all the noise. Is everything okay?"

Setsuna headed into the kitchen, talking into the communicator as she went. "Haruka's been injured, and it looks very much like the same people might be after you. I think you'd better get back here as soon as you can..."

Setsuna's voice faded away as she disappeared into the kitchen, but then it grew louder again for a moment before dropping off suddenly. It almost sounded as if Setsuna was giving Michiru a piece of her mind. Given the circumstances, Rei understood the need to yell at someone for a bit.

"I should have brought the first crystals I found over to the shrine the other day." Ami sounded dangerously morose. "I suppose we should test things futher to see _how_ they work, but it's probably safe to say that these are what kept you from using your powers on the golems, and why the rest of us didn't seem to have a problem."

Makoto had claimed the large armchair and was now curled up with her feet tucked up on the seat. "Okay, but the other thing is why you guys," she said, waving in the general direction of Haruka and Hotaru, "and not the rest of us?"

Ami didn't respond. She stood by the coffee table, hand curled against her mouth, eyes flickering back and forth as she thought, considered, rejected, deferred.

"I really don't like to be the one to point this out," Rei said, attention fully on Hotaru, "but the way those crystals responded with your signature colors reminds me of that crystal Sailor Sun showed us."

Hotaru leaned forward so quickly she had to grab the edge of the coffee table to keep her balance. "Just because they're like her crystal doesn't mean she's--"

"I didn't say that. But you have to admit there's a similarity."

Ami shook her head. "Not entirely." She sounded distracted, as if only giving a fraction of her mind to what she was saying. "Sun's crystal responded to all of us. These seem to be specifically keyed..."

Her voice trailed off again as whatever she was about to say got pulled along onto whatever train of thought she was riding.

"I'm not trying to say Sun is working with the enemy," Rei said.

Hotaru pressed her lips together and cast her eyes to the side, tense with the effort of not speaking.

Rei had to bite back a few words of her own, including an 'oh, thank goodness' when the doorbell rang. She waved Setsuna off and went to see who it was.

Minako, Usagi, and Chibi-Usa all pushed past her the second she opened the door, nearly pinning her against the wall. Usagi started talking a mile a minute as soon as she was inside, waving a CD case around (and nearly taking Minako's eye out with one particularly grand gesture).

It was like watching a pot of water tip from a simmer to a boil. Usagi went straight over to Ami and pulled out the CD insert. Hotaru started asking what was going on, and was that her Kathy Celeste CD, and when she got no answer, kept on asking. It didn't help that Makoto kept talking over her, trying to get Usagi to slow down and get her story straight. Minako, on the other hand, had buttonholed Setsuna, and kept asking for details what had happened with the golems. As for Chibi-Usa, she tried to take advantage of the rise in noise level to duck back into the foyer and ask Rei if Hotaru was okay.

At least, that's what Rei thought Chibi-Usa was asking; there were too many conversations and she was trying to pick out what Usagi was saying about Nephrite and some woman and... a child?

"Hold that thought, Chibi-Usa," she said, and walked back into the living room.

"Who's Kathy Celeste? I'm lost. I'm _totally_ lost here." That was Makoto, voice raised to be heard over Hotaru's increasingly louder interruptions

"_Yes,_ Uranus tried to use her sword to take out the _druj's_ mark. We _do_ know how these creatures work." That was Setsuna, getting testy with Minako. "And we would have called for help if we'd had _time_."

"I knew it looked familiar, and so did Ami-chan, and doesn't she look like Naru-chan, and Chibi-Usa was showing me about that when I saw this, and maybe it's just me, but doesn't it look like him?" That was Usagi, bending the liner notes from Hotaru's CD.

At last, Haruka whistled sharply through her teeth, catching everyone's attention. She held up her hands, squaring one against the other in a classic 'time out' gesture.

"Who the hell is Nephrite?" she croaked.

"No talking!" Setsuna and Hotaru snapped in unison. Hotaru looked over her shoulder at Haruka and mimed zipping her lips shut. Setsuna on the other hand, visibly collected herself, taking a deep breath and rolling her shoulders back slightly. When she spoke, her voice was as placid as ever. A little tight, perhaps, but placid all the same.

"He was one of Endymion's... generals? confidantes? companions? back in the Silver Millennium." Setsuna inclined her head slightly, and she smiled. The smile had an edge to it. "Endymion would have relied on him the way Serenity--Usagi--relies on Mercury, or Mars, or any of us."

"But..." Hotaru frowned, and her eyes flickered back and forth as she tried to piece together what she had heard. "It sounded to me like you were talking about a villain you fought way back when. Or am I missing something?"

Rei wasn't sure what to make of the 'way back when' comment. It hadn't been _that_ long ago. "No, you're not missing something. He _was_."

She got a few odd, startled looks in response to her comment.

"Nephrite used something very much like the golems, back when we first fought him," she continued. "Same mark, same feeling of corruption. He and his friends were the first people we ever fought."

Ami spoke warily, glancing at Rei sidelong all the while. "Y-yes. That's true. Of course, we had no idea who they were at the time. It wasn't until afterwards that we knew who they had been."

Hotaru still seemed confused. "Okay, but if they were your enemies, then why was Mamoru-san friends with them? Or was this when he was brainwashed?"

Both Minako and Makoto seemed to hold themselves back from making the obvious joke about 'which time?' It may have been because Rei met their eyes before a single word could be uttered.

It was disconcerting, she thought, how someone with Mamoru's supposed power could be so vulnerable.

She would never say so to Usagi, of course, but there were times when Mamoru's connection to the Moon Princess was much more of a liability to their team than a help.

"It's more the other way around," Ami explained. Her gaze cut over to Setsuna, just this side of accusing. "I don't know the full story, but Endymion's generals weren't always villains. They weren't exactly allies, if I'm remembering my history correctly..."

Setsuna nodded, both confirming Ami's hypothesis and gently urging her to continue.

"But we were on good terms with them, as best as I can tell. In fact--" Ami started to say something, then her face went bright red. Minako looked away, shifting from foot to foot, and Rei thought--and almost said--_that's enough, I don't want to hear any more._

"While there was an explicit ban on collaboration and alliance between the Silver Millennium and the Golden Kingdom, that applied only to royalty--and any official alliances." Setsuna slid into the conversation so neatly it seemed planned that way. Rei felt relieved and didn't want to think about _why_ she felt relieved.

"The ban also didn't apply quite so strongly to the planetary kingdoms. The House of Saturn had ties to the Earth Kingdom, and Nephrite--since we're speaking of him..." _and not of anyone else at the moment_, Setsuna carefully did not say, "he had blood ties to the ruler of Jupiter.

Makoto blinked a few times at that, but then shrugged it aside. If anything, Usagi looked far more upset at this revelation, and her gaze turned back to the CD case as if it had some answer to their questions.

"We should have _known_." Usagi's voice was tight, in that trying-not-to-cry way. "We thought they were the enemy and we thought they were evil and we tried to destroy them..."

"They mostly destroyed themselves," Rei snapped. They didn't have time for this. "Jadeite got killed by his own stupid trap, Zoisite killed Nephrite, and we have no idea what happened to _that_ creepy little guy."

"But I thought Zoisite..." Ami started, then thought better of it. "Oh, never mind. I do think you're right. It probably was Beryl. It was obvious something happened, judging by the way Kunzite acted afterwards."

"You mean, like he was _trying_ to lose?" Minako said. Her voice and smile were both sharp, striking Rei as both alien and familiar at the same time. "Idiot plan after idiot plan?"

Ami tapped a finger against her mouth as she thought. "Yes... yes. That does make sense. Nephrite was pushing against the hypnotism or brainwashing or..." She looked up at Setsuna, but Setsuna only shrugged.

Usagi was the one who answered. "It was Naru." She took the liner notes from Hotaru's CD and passed them to Ami. Ami thumbed through them. First, she gave a little _huh_ of surprise, and then her eyes went wide. She held the booklet out to Rei.

Rei took it, and just like Ami, was surprised by the singer's resemblance to Usagi's friend. Then she opened the booklet.

"They were reincarnated? Just like we were?" Rei demanded. The thought clanged in her head, seemingly new but devastatingly familiar.

"Well... yes?" Ami was surprised at her surprise. "I thought you knew that."

"Of course I knew!" Rei tossed the booklet down on the coffee table. It was too light and too flimsy to _thwack_ down in a satisfying manner. "I just didn't think..."

Usagi picked up the booklet, turning through it again as if doing penance. "They had lives. They had families."

Three of Endymion's guards had fallen by their own hands or by the hands of their supposed allies, but Sailor Moon been the one to fling Kunzite's own weapon back at him, killing him.

Rei could explain until her throat was raw and bleeding that it was self-defense, that Kunzite had nearly killed them all and was still trying to kill them, but Usagi would never see it that way.

Then there was the thought she never would voice, not to anyone:

_They deserved what they got_.

She didn't even want to say it to herself, and she had no idea what to do with the strange mix of shame and satisfaction that accompanied the sentiment.

"So, if Nephrite is dead..." Makoto let the question trail off, and Minako picked it up without hesitation.

"Who's sending the goblins after us?"

"And why?" Ami's addendum was a distracted whisper. She was certainly starting to put pieces of the puzzle together, but Rei had no idea how close she was to an answer. She picked up one of the specimen jars. The crystal shards chattered faintly as she tipped the jar from side to side. "And why are they only targeting some of us?"

"Endymion's generals wouldn't have been aware of us," Setsuna said. She moved over to Haruka's couch and half-sat on one of the arms. "But that type of magic was so particular to a small part of the Earth Kingdom."

Minako jumped in, more aggressive than Rei was used to seeing her. "Which you still need to tell us more about! I don't get why all the years you've known us, you never told us--"

Setsuna cut her off without remorse or gentleness. "How many times did Nephrite come up in casual conversation with your friends? From what I've been hearing, not that many." She didn't wait for a response. She simply ignored Minako as if Minako had never even spoken out.

"Usagi-chan," she said, her voice once again soft and kind, "have you told Mamoru-san about this? He _does_ need to know."

Usagi's face went as red as Minako's. "I left him a message," she mumbled.

* * *

**8:50 a.m.**

Mamoru finished getting dressed, poured himself a cup of coffee, and dished out some leftover rice for breakfast.

He had had a nice night out with Usagi. Oh, he could tell she wanted to ask about the detectives who were investigating his foster care record (he'd decided that bit about his parents' accident not being an accident was just Artemis getting ahead of himself--the cat had obviously spent much too long playing detective alongside Sailor V). She hadn't pushed, though.

He wolfed his meal while standing (nearly choking when he fought back a yawn mid-mouthful), not because he was in a hurry but because the habit was already ingrained. Grab food between shifts, as much as you can, wash it down with coffee, move on to the next crisis and try not to fall asleep on your feet.

Mamoru got halfway through his coffee before realizing that he didn't have to be at the university hospital until noon ad [and] actually had time to enjoy a decent cup of not-instant tea. It didn't entirely make up for the fact that he could have slept in for another two hours, but it was something.

He dumped the coffee down the drain and went to grab the electric kettle. As he grabbed it, he saw that the message light on the phone was blinking.

There hadn't been a message last night--he'd checked when he got home. Maybe while he was in the shower...?

He pushed 'play.' There was silence, a hitch of breath, then the silence of disconnect.

Probably just a wrong number, he thought.

Mamoru filled the kettle and, despite his lingering fatigue, felt pleased with himself for having nothing important he had to do that morning.

* * *

**8:53 a.m.**

Skotos drifted down a back stairwell to the school basement. It could see the tell-tale signs of Kakos's recent passage: insect shells, a few fresh acid burns, cigar ash.

What it could not sense, however, was the sound of any activity. So, it was only mildly surprised when it insinuated itself under the doorway to find Kakos sitting on the sculpting platform, calmly reading the morning paper.

"No golems?" it asked.

"Not 'til I hear otherwise." Kakos got up and dimmed the light out of courtesy to Skotos. Even so, it was still too bright for Skotos's taste, so it merged with the shadows under the sculpting platform.

"I thought the plan was to keep making them until Saturn and the others were destroyed."

"It ain't workin'," Kakos said. He waddled back over to the platform and sat down heavily, sending hundreds of beetles and other insects to a crunchy death. "Them girls figgered out how to bust 'em up, and y'can't do nothin' to the forehead marks without screwin' up the magic. So, I ain't wastin' any more of my valuable time 'less Herself tells me otherwise."

"They didn't manage to hurt _any_ of the Senshi?" Skotos asked in disbelief.

Kakos's laugh sounded like a septic tank gone bad. "Oh, one of 'em is hurt all right. Tall girl, nice legs, got a way with wind and the like. Y'know, the one what got the Sword. The outcast got away without a scratch, more's the pity, and I dunno what happened to the ocean girl. Saturn had a bunch of others protectin' 'er, so that was a wash. The bit at the old man's place didn't go so good neither." Skotos heard the sound of Kakos lighting up another cigar. "Funny how that last one was the only bit where Herself got real mad. Good deal I got her that blood from the skeeters, or I mighta been sealed right back up, huh?"

Skotos shifted uncomfortably in the shadows. After millions of years of imprisonment and less than a century of freedom, the thought of going back into that hell of light was more than unpleasant; it was terrifying, especially for a creature that was the embodiment of all the fears that darkness had ever spawned. How on earth could Kakos joke about such a thing?

* * *

**9:48 a.m.**

In their suits and ties, Jason Wright and Keisuke Takamori stood out from the crowds of Sunday sightseers leaving Ueno Station. Once they cleared the station, more people seemed to be interested in heading to the zoo than to the museum, so they had a small measure of quiet in which to discuss the case.

"So, Keisuke-san. What's the deal with this Kusonoki Seiichiro person, and why was Seidou-san cackling--and I mean literally _cackling_--with delight when she heard he was involved?"

"Ah, the late and distinctly unlamented Minister Kusonoki," Keisuke mused. "Let's just say that Seidou-san has a serious dislike for corrupt politicians, or indeed anyone who breaks the rules. Kusonoki-san was a particular... _favorite_ of hers. He was constantly under investigation for one form of corruption or another. There was talk of insider trading and graft, but nothing ever came of it."

"Right. Because judges can be bought, just like anyone else." Jason knew more than he wanted to about that particular brand of sleaze.

"I wouldn't say _anyone_," Keisuke said a little primly. "During his lifetime, no one found any evidence of outright bribery, but Kusonoki-san definitely lived a life that was beyond his apparent means, and yes, he did die with massive debts, but not nearly as massive as one would have thought."

"Well, if he had ties to the Russian _mafiya_..." Jason gave the last word a little push as the end to indicate that he wasn't talking about the mafia of Don Corleone. As far as he was concerned, _that _mafia was something that happened mostly in New Jersey. Or Hollywood.

Keisuke shook his head. "Doubtful. Perhaps the investigators going through his accounts will find something more, but if the only Russian connection is a collection of artwork? It seems a bit paltry. And yes, there has been a problem with Russian syndicates bringing Russian women here as prostitutes and smuggling Chinese immigrants into the country, but for a politician of Kusonoki's stature--tarnished though it was--to be involved with them? It would have been political suicide if anyone found out."

"Money's money," Jason pointed out. "Plus, those _mafiya_ guys can be some scary sons of bitches--the stories the guys on the vice squad tell would turn your hair chalk white, no lie. If Kusonoki was stupid enough to make one deal with them, chances are, he'd have been afraid to say no to other offers. I don't care how much he was on the take, I don't think he'd want to get bits of his family members shipped to his office in a series of little boxes."

Keisuke grunted in reluctant agreement. "Perhaps. The other problem with that theory is that according to what I found, Renko got his citizenship in 1982. We didn't start having a problem with the Russian syndicates until the early nineties, from what I recall. Besides, wouldn't a cash bribe be harder to trace than artwork? After all, we were able to follow the trail years after the fact, with relatively little trouble."

They walked on in silence for a while. Jason had only a vague idea of where the museum was, but Keisuke led the way as if he knew exactly where he was going. After all, the man _did_ have four kids, and Akiko was the sort of parent who insisted on balancing trips to theme parks and ball games with more educational (i.e. _boring_, according to Misako and Daisuke) outings.

The National Museum of Western Art had supposedly been designed by some famous architect, but Jason thought it looked like a corrugated concrete shoebox set up on pilings. A smoother concrete balcony and stair anchored one end of the building and framed a large window.

By rights, it should have been ugly, sitting there in the wooded serenity of Ueno Park, but something about its proportions and placement made it appear as if it belonged there. Okay, so maybe the architect knew what he was doing, Jason thought, but he still refused to admit that he liked it.

The entrance wasn't through the big glass wall, but was instead beneath the looming bulk of the museum, sequestered somewhere between the pilings. Jason squelched a brief flutter of claustrophobia and followed Keisuke.

As instructed, they went straight to the entrance, bypassing the ticket desk outside. Inside was a vast expanse of whiteness and light and frighteningly shiny brown floors, but somehow it all managed to avoid seeming cold and stark. Jason made a note to revisit the place if he had a chance to play tourist during this trip.

Jason was wondering if Keisuke would have to flash his badge to get in, but it turned out that the lobby of the museum was free admission. Once you got past the museum shop, cafe, and other bits where casual browsers were likely to get trapped and spend money, _then_ you would have to fork over a ticket.

Keisuke must have gotten specific instructions on what to do next, as he headed straight towards a glassed-in area that appeared to be some sort of reading room. They were met by a tall, elderly man who Jason couldn't help thinking of as a bespectacled crane with a silvery-white pompadour. The man blinked a few times at seeing that a foreigner was part of the team, but recovered his composure with hardly a stutter.

"I am Okada Yuuto, curator of Eastern European art," he announced with a perfect balance of pride and humility, bowing in greeting. If he was surprised by Jason's own neatly executed bow, he hid it well.

"We appreciate you taking the time out of your day to meet with us, Okada-san," Keisuke said.

"Anything to be of assistance to the police," Okada replied.

There were a few more exchanges of that sort as Jason stood in the background, enjoying the little display of etiquette. After a morning in Seidou's less than tender care, it was both refreshing and reassuring.

"Takamori-san, Wright-san, if you two gentlemen would follow me, we can review the Kusonoki collection and its history while we enjoy some tea. Also, if you are hungry, I would be more than happy to send up to the cafe for something to eat." He led them past the main exhibition hall and its broad, sweeping staircases to a discreetly placed door that led to a more institutional stairwell. From there, they made there way down to a generic conference room decorated with framed posters from past exhibitions. A pull-down screen covered the rear wall of the room, and a projector was noisily idling at the far end of the table. As they got settled around the table, a quiet young woman with a businesslike smile brought them tea.

Once the tea was served and a few more rounds of small talk were attended to, Okada's demeanor changed slightly. He was still scrupulously polite, but his manner became noticeably more brisk. He scooted his chair over to where a computer sat waiting on a side table. A quick tap on the space bar turned off the screen saver and revealed an array of computer icons. As he began clicking and typing with finicky precision, Okada began his narrative.

"Normally, I would prefer to meet in my office, but there's no room for the projector. Also, I beg your forgiveness for having to resort to a digital presentation, but I'm afraid that the actual collection is in several different places. Some of it is in the custody of the government, a few pieces are at the Setagaya Art Museum, and the majority of the sketches are currently on loan to the Tokyo University botany department."

Jason and Keisuke exchanged glances. They weren't going to see the actual pieces? In one way, Jason was relieved. Seidou's crack about works of art coming to life and attacking him wasn't as silly as it had sounded. One of the last things he wanted was for any innocents to get caught up in all this, especially innocents who had four children and a wife to support.

Unfortunately, if there was any evidence to be found in the actual works of art themselves, digital photos were only going to be of limited help at best. Still, their best chance of finding clear ties between Renko and Kusonoki, and maybe even something about Chiba's parents would be in the paper trail associated with the art rather than the art itself.

"How difficult would it be to get access to the actual pieces for forensic analysis if we need to do so?" Keisuke asked, careful to pitch his voice so that it came across as a supplication, not a demand. If demands were needed, they'd drag in Seidou, and poor, courtly Okada would never know what hit him.

Okada winced and drew a sharp breath through his teeth before putting his manners back on. "You are, of course, free to examine anything on the premises as long as you work in concert with one of our conservationists," he said smoothly. "As for the other pieces, granting you direct access could be rather...complicated."

As he continued to set up the computer, he went on with his lecture. "I must admit some concern about your interest in this collection. We've had enough trouble with it already."

"What kind of trouble?" Jason asked, doing his best to make it sound like a casual inquiry.

"I am ashamed to say that the collection first came to us with something of a... tainted reputation," Okada said. "Kusonoki-san's reputation as a politician was not exactly what one would call exemplary."

Okada went on to tell Jason nearly everything that Keisuke had already told him, but with a few extra details. For one thing, the lawyers settling his estate kept finding out about bank accounts and investment portfolios that should not exist. Even now, large parts of the estate were still in probate, and the man's widow was now living in seclusion and serious denial somewhere outside Nara.

"His art collection was handed over to us a few months after Kusonoki's death in 1998. The letter accompanying the collection implied that he hoped it would one day become as highly regarded as the Matsukata collection."

Jason nodded as if he knew exactly what Okada was talking about. The name 'Matsukata' was featured prominently on more than a few of the posters, so it had to be one of the museum's bigger draws.

"As soon as we learned of the bequest, we immediately began work planning an exhibition to take place on the two year anniversary of Kusonoki's death."

"Two years? Why so long?" Jason asked.

"Exhibitions are scheduled years in advance," Okada explained with polished patience, "Even small exhibitions need to be planned with great care--not just exhibit space, but publicity, catalogs, audio tours, educational programs, and so on. And then of course there's the matter of cataloguing all of the pieces and seeing to any necessary restoration work. There was some thought of rushing things to hit the one-year anniversary, and I sincerely wish we had."

"Why? Did something happen?" To a casual listener, Keisuke would have sounded more solicitous than curious, but Jason could tell that he was starting to push the curator just a little. He hoped he had a chance to see Seidou and Keisuke tag-team a suspect; it would be fascinating to see how their different styles meshed in interrogation. It wouldn't be a match for the dynamic duo of Pembleton and Bayliss, but it would still be something to see.

Okada fiddled with the computer some more, clearly not wanting to move on to the next part of the discussion.

"We had hoped that Kusonoki would come to be more highly regarded after his death," he said stiffly. "Unfortunately, this was not the case. Also, the contents of the collection itself proved to be even more problematic than his reputation. Takamori-san, would you be kind enough to dim the lights?"

As Keisuke turned the lights down to low, Okada clicked the mouse so gingerly that Jason wondered if the man expected to get an electric shock.

The projector lit up the screen with an image in dulled but rich primary colors. Winged figures and haloed saints stood around a figure swaddled in blue and lying on a white bed that stood out in stark relief against the rich reds, golds, bronzes, and blues of the rest of the piece. The faces of the living were just as static and emotionless as the face of the dead woman at the center of the picture, but the way they leaned in around her gave the whole piece a feeling of quiet expectation.

"The problems started when we brought in an expert in Russian iconography to appraise this piece and several others. It's a fifteenth-century icon of the Death of Mary, and while it's not an exceptional piece in its own right, our expert identified it as matching the description of an icon that was last known to have been in a museum in Stalingrad--right before the Nazi occupation."

Keisuke let out a low whistle of astonishment, while Jason just groaned in disgust. Well, they'd wanted proof that Renko was dirty, didn't they?

"Now, it's not definite that it's the same piece," Okada said with an amazing lack of defensiveness, "and it was never proven that it was taken by the Nazis. It could have been stolen by nearly anyone during the chaos of the war."

"Right. But as soon as anyone mentions Nazis, rational discussion goes right out the window," Jason said. He leaned forward over the table. "You said that the problems started with this icon. I'm guessing that means that other problems came up not long after."

Okada nodded so emphatically that his pompadour wobbled. "Oh, yes," he said. Now that the most shameful bit of his speech had been gotten out of the way with little trauma, he relaxed visibly.

He clicked on the mouse again, and the picture changed. It was another icon. This one showed three haloed figures gathered around a table. A chalice sat on the table, serving as the focus of the tableau. The soft pinks and blues and the flaking gold leaf were beautiful in their own right, but their gentle decay suggested that the icon had once been a riot of light and color.

"The Holy Trinity?" Keisuke guessed.

"Painted by none other than Andrei Rublev, sometime in the early fourteen hundreds." Okada handled the Russian name perfectly and without hesitation. He chuckled ruefully when the announcement was not met with the appropriate reverence by his audience. "Rublev is the Russian equivalent of a Giotto or even a Leonardo DaVinci, if one is feeling generous. The former Soviet republics tend to be rather, ah, reluctant to let any of his work be exported, even if it's a matter of one private collector selling to another private collector. In cases like this, where there's no record of the provenance, it obviously raises any number of suspicions."

Okada showed three more icons: a portrait of Christ, a diptych of Saints Peter and Paul, and a depiction of the Annunciation.

The icons looked impossibly old to Jason, even though they had been painted less than six hundred years ago. He had vivid and very present memories of temples and towers that had been built a million years before any modern historian or scientist would have said was possible, but these bits of wood, pigment, and gilt seemed to him as if they had come from a time far more exotic and distant than that.

"The first two are verifiable Rublevs, while the Annunciation is most likely the work of one of his students. Even if it's a student work, it still would have been difficult to get it out of the country legally, before _or_ after the Soviet Union fell. In any case, the papers that came with the bequest stated that the first icon was acquired in late 1980, with the others being purchased for a pittance over the next nine months--all from different galleries."

"Wait--he _bought_ them?" Jason asked. "They weren't a gift?"

Okada looked at him almost pityingly. "At the prices he supposedly paid for them? It would have been like buying an original Van Gogh for the price of a cheap lithographic reproduction, and while it's possible that one gallery grossly underestimated the value of a piece, it's hard to believe that four different galleries would do so."

"And let me guess. Not one of those galleries is still in business, right?" And, thought Jason, there was a better than even chance that they'd never even existed in the first place.

Okada closed his eyes and nodded gravely. "The last icon--the Annunciation--was purchased in June of 1982," he said.

That would have been right after Renko got his citizenship. A few pieces of prime artwork would have been handed over at intervals to keep the wheels greased while things were being processed, and a larger final gift would have been given right as everything was wrapped up.

So now the question was why Renko was so eager to get Japanese citizenship.

"Do you have copies of those bills of sale, Okada-san?" If they were lucky, there would be information on there that could lead them to more information about Renko or his associates. Given the importance of some of those icons, Jason would not have been surprised to find that Renko's was not the only citizenship Kusonoki had pushed through.

"I'll be sure to provide you with copies of all the relevant paperwork. Maybe you'll be able to find something our investigators haven't. Now I'm afraid that this next part probably won't be all that interesting to you, but I know that the police would prefer a thorough overview." Okada quickly flipped through a series of paintings of happy farm workers, obedient schoolgirls in institutional classrooms, gleaming combine harvesters, and pristine factory complexes. "Prime yet dull examples of Soviet Socialist Realism. From a technical standpoint, they're not bad, but they're really more valuable as cultural artifacts than as works of art. This part of the collection isn't under any shadow, I'm happy to say. The gallery that sold them _did_ exist, but it went out of business in the early nineties."

"I have to admit, when my contact said Russian art, I was hoping for Faberge eggs or something like that," Keisuke whispered as Okada went on about a planned joint exhibition with the Art Institute of Chicago.

"What? Nazis not exciting enough for you?" Jason whispered back.

"I'm sorry, did you have a question?"

Jason and Keisuke sat bolt upright in their chairs like a couple of schoolboys who'd just been caught passing a note.

"As I was saying, we're at the part that most directly concerns your investigation. All of the pieces I'm about to show you were gifted to Kusonoki by their original owner, a man named..." he checked a piece of paper, "Semyon Fyodorivich Renko. That is the person you are investigating, yes?"

"Original owner?" Jason asked. "Does that mean that this Renko person was the one who commissioned the works?"

Okada paused, then tilted his head to one side in partial agreement. "One piece, yes, he commissioned. The other two appear to have been family property."

Huh. And here he'd thought that communists didn't do the personal property thing. Maybe he should have paid more attention in history class.

"Before we get to the portraits, we'll take a look at the botanical sketches. They are most undoubtedly from the Renko family, and date back to well before the Revolution," Okada said as a series of pencil and pastel sketches of various mosses, grasses, and weedy looking flowers followed each other on the screen. In the lower right of each sketch was a word that Jason read as PEHKO, but which Okada assured him was the name 'Renko.'

"These were done by Fyodor Alekseev Renko, undoubtedly the father of your Semyon Fyodorovich, if the patronymic is anything to go by. Fyodor was a noted Russian naturalist who would have been far more well known if his career hadn't been eclipsed by the Russian Revolution."

Right. Because the Russian Revolution was a noted career-killer, thought Jason. It certainly had been one for the Romanovs.

The various sketches started to blend together in his mind, but in the middle of it all was one group of sketches that caught Jason's eye. Instead of the usual weedy things that Renko was hung up on ("an _outstanding_ catalog of native Siberian wildflowers"), these showed a large group of felled trees, cleared of their limbs and fanned out on the ground along a curved hillside. Here and there amidst the fallen trees stood a few dead trees, also limbless. In the margins of one of the pictures were a few doodles of a young woman. The doodles were interesting, but they also suggested that Renko should have stuck to drawing plants. They were sketchy, without the devotion to detail seen in the other pictures. The woman was nude, or mostly nude--it was hard to tell--with something about the pencil strokes that suggested rapid movement or some sort of heat haze.

The figure of the woman was certainly odd, but there was something else about the tree sketches that fidgeted at the edges of his memory. Jason endured a few more examples of Weeds of Siberia before the fidgeting got to the point where he couldn't stand it any more.

"Could you go back to the picture of the trees for a moment, Okada-san?"

Okada flipped back without comment. Jason looked more closely at the picture. "What's that writing in the corner?"

"'July first, 1908,' I believe. Does that have any significance?"

Jason shook his head. The date didn't ring any bells, but something about the fallen trees was definitely familiar. He had a nagging feeling that he'd seen this picture somewhere before. Oh, not this exact sketch, but something very much like it. A photograph? Yes, that was it. He was almost positive it was something he'd seen recently. In a book? No. That wasn't it. Television? That seemed more likely, but he couldn't be sure.

This was going to drive him crazy. He was going to pick at this like a scab, and that was stupid, because a photograph that was taken in 1908 wasn't likely to any bearing on a case that only dated back a decade and a half--or possibly millions of years. Something that happened at the beginning of the last century just didn't fit.

"What do we know about these pictures, Okada-san? They're not like the others."

Okada stared at the picture for a while, then peered over his glasses to check the file name on the computer screen. "Our cataloger referred to these sketches as 'Siberian logging camp', but there's nothing in the sketchbook to indicate that's what they are."

That was the obvious answer, but Jason knew it was the wrong answer.

After a few more minutes of botany, Okada was ready to move on to the last two slides.

"This may be nothing more than an old man's folly, but there's something of a mystery about these last two paintings. Oh, nothing sinister," he said as Jason and Keisuke perked up, "but it's intriguing, and we certainly would have played it up for the exhibition. The first one is by Zinaida Serebryakova--she's easily one of the best Russian artists of the twentieth century--and was painted in either 1910 or 1911."

Without further ado, Okada flipped to the next slide. It was a portrait of a woman. She stood with her back mostly turned to the viewer, and she was looking over her shoulder, smiling gently. Everything except the woman's face was treated almost impressionistically. The background was filled in with rough brushstrokes of dark brown paint that hinted at a warm, wooden interior, one lit only by candles and hearth. The woman wore a simple white garment that seemed to glow against the dark background. It could have been a dress, a peasant's smock, or even just a sheet that had been draped over her shoulders as she posed for the artist. Her hair was brushed back from her face, and the shadows made it impossible to tell if her hair was dark red or firelit brown.

The detail on the woman's face was soft, but defined enough to create a vivid, life-like portait. The woman had a heart-shaped face and fair skin with a golden glow from the unseen firelight. Dark, almost heavy eyebrows that arched like a seagull's wings gave her an expression of wary delight. Her smile was gentle, almost hesitant, revealing just a hint of teeth, while the almond-shaped eyes were focused on someone or something just to the right of the artist, as if seeking reassurance or perhaps just a familiar face. A small but emphatic dash of paint beneath the woman's left eye was too prominent to be just a stray brushstroke--a scar, perhaps? Like the background, the woman's eyes were a dark brown that appeared almost black, but had an unexpected complexity and richness to their color. For the first time since the slide show began Jason, wished he could see the actual painting and not just a digital photo.

"She looks like she has an old soul," he said, earning startled looks from both Okada and Keisuke.

"Very interesting that you should say that." Okada's voice sounded strained. "Take a look at this next painting. It's by Alexandr Segal, and was painted in the late nineteen-fifties, nearly a half-century after the Serebryakova."

The next picture popped up on the screen. This one was of a red-haired woman at an upper story window of an old apartment building. She wore a short-sleeved white blouse, and was bent forward slightly as she tipped a glass of water into a window box full of geraniums. Something about the fresh morning light, the open window, and the cozy domesticity of the scene reminded Jason of one of those old Dutch paintings that his mother liked, but those generally didn't include details like pigeon-laden power lines and shiny red busses in the street below.

Keisuke's grunt of surprise came barely a second before Jason noticed what was truly startling about the painting. The hair was styled differently, and was clearly identifiable as deep red, but the thick, arching eyebrows, heart-shaped face, and rich brown eyes were the same as in the Serebryakova painting.

"It's the same woman," Keisuke said, and it was not quite a question.

Jason shook his head. "No way. It's got to be a family resemblance. I mean, more than forty years later? The woman in the first picture would have been ancient by then, wouldn't she?"

But even as he said this, part of him remembered a time when humans measured their lives in centuries, not decades.

"It _can't _be the same woman," he insisted, but there was no point. The thin slash of paint under the woman's left eye was unmistakeable.

"You see it, don't you?" Okada asked, and there was something almost apologetic in his voice. He clicked something on the computer screen, and the Serebryakova and Segal paintings were displayed side by side on the screen. "It's possible that Segal was told to make the woman resemble the one in the Serebryakova painting, or that someone altered one of the paintings to heighten the resemblance..."

For Okada, the idea of the same woman appearing in the two portraits was romantic, even though he knew there was a 'rational' explanation.

Jason, on the other hand, knew those explanations were nothing more than a comfortable fiction. That slash of paint was no accident.

"Is there anything else you _do_ know about the paintings?" Keisuke asked. "Anything that we could present as verifiable fact to the senior detective on the case?"

Okada thought for a moment. "The documentation on both paintings is pristine. The first painting--titled 'Zorya,' by the way--was a gift to Fyodor Renko from the artist. As for the Segal painting, it has a rather prosaic title--'Serafima Renkova at the window.'" He paused, waiting for a reaction. "'Renkova' is the feminine form of 'Renko.' It's entirely possible that this is a portrait of Semyon Fyodorovich's wife."

* * *

**10:30 a.m.**

Three miles outside of Kamakura, Taiyouko swerved off the road and skidded to a stop on the gravel verge.

A few passers-by noticed her sitting in her car, fuming silently, then launching into what looked like a violent tirade directed at someone who wasn't there. For the most part, those who saw her assumed she was using a cell phone.

"What the hell is it about Kamakura?" she demanded, even though there was no one else in the car. No one that anyone could see, that is.

The lurker was full of piss and vinegar. It filled her head to the point where she felt she was wearing a hat that was too tight--except the hat was _inside _her head.

The god-damned psychic parasitic uninvited freeloading guest indicated it felt very at home here, and Taiyouko would just have to get used to the idea.

"So help me, if you screw up this investigation for me..."

It curled up in her head, contented as a well-fed cat, and lazily indicated it would stay out of the way and would only offer suggestions if it felt Taiyouko was missing something. No more outbursts like the one from the other day.

Taiyouko didn't believe it for a second.

"Right. Like you'd ever tell me anything useful." She reached into her pocket for a cigarette and huffed in disgust when she encountered a tin of mints. "Hell with it. Let's go."

Too bad the lurker didn't come with any nifty superpowers. Wright had a good thing going for him, that was for sure.

She got back on the road, and within minutes she reached the visitors' lot where she and Wright had pulled off the road just yesterday. A police car from the local precinct was conspicuously parked, and when she pulled up, an officer got out and walked over to her car in full swagger. She had her badge out and her window rolled down before he got halfway to her car.

"Tokyo Metropolitan," she said with no further explanation. "Where's everyone else?"

The officer's expression grew pinched and Taiyouko could tell that some dick-compensating behavior was about to surface, but she glared at him and was aware of the lurker somehow _flexing_ right behind her eyes.

The officer seemed to shrink several inches (in more ways than one). He pointed down the road and babbled something about a turn-off and how it was masked by a big rock, and sorry for the confusion ma'am and have a good day ma'am and many other things that meant _oh god, please don't hurt me._

Taiyouko nodded her thanks, then took off, car sputtering and transmission whining as it climbed the steep upgrade.

So maybe this thing did come with some nifty superpowers. She'd have to play around with this a little.

Not now, though, she told the lurker as they passed the rock and found the nearly hidden but surprisingly wide driveway. A small sign said DELIVERIES AND EMERGENCY VEHICLES ONLY.

Well, there were plenty of emergency vehicles to be had. Three fire engines and four marked police cars that she could see. Any ambulances would have been long gone by now. Then there were two other cars--dark blue and sober gray sedans whose only marks of officialdom were the metal grates that separated the front seats from the back. Her little econobox fit quite tidily behind them.

For a moment, Taiyouko wondered where the hell the nursing home was. It didn't make sense to have the loading and unloading zone so far from the building.

That ended when she saw how the far edge of the drive cracked and buckled before flowing into something that looked like lava. And then there was ash-white stump of concrete and twisted rebar next to the edge of the drive. It might have been a pylon that held up a carport (ambulances probably came and went from this place on a regular schedule) but it was now impossible to tell for sure.

The nursing home was gone_._ Barring the concrete stump and its twin twenty yards further along the drive, all that was left of the place was a large, strangely textured patch of gray earth. One section--maybe twelve feet across--was cordoned off with bright yellow tape wrapped around stanchions that had been placed in a rough octagon. As far as she could tell, the tape surrounded a whole lot of nothing.

Taiyouko blinked a few times as if clearing smoke from her eyes. She'd seen arson scenes before, but unless it was an old building that was mostly paper and ancient wood, there was always something left. Stone walls. Steel girders. Pillars. Something more than this.

She tried to imagine heat that intense, but simply could not. The lurker, on the other hand, shrugged and said nothing. There was a slight pressure in her throat, but it didn't manifest into a coughing fit.

A large man with close-cropped gray hair strode towards her car. Taiyouko recognized the challenge in his gaze, and once again got her badge and I.D. ready as she got out of the car. She felt the lurker shift to the front of her mind, but there was a big difference between scaring some little plebe with a Napoleon complex and dealing with someone she wanted to regard her as an equal or better on her own terms. She told the lurker to stand down as she presented the man with her identification. Fortunately, it did not force the issue.

The man stepped back in surprise, then leaned forward, his puzzlement clear as he glanced back and forth between her and her I.D.

Taiyouko smirked. As fun as it was seeing Officer Wannabe nearly wet himself, seeing this sort of mental realignment was far more satisfying. "I know. Not what you expected, huh? I'm looking for an Inspector Tsukigawa."

"That would be me," he said in a voice that was surprisingly light for such a big man. He also seemed to have recovered quickly from his confusion. He bowed slightly. "Tsukigawa Ken. Arson."

"Seidou Taiyouko. Homicide."

She enjoyed the introductions that took place when meeting detectives from other divisions. It always ended up sounding like they were comparing hobbies.

"I appreciate your coming all the way out here on such short notice, Detective Seidou."

Taiyouko's return bow was little more than a curt nod. Tsukigawa was at least thirty centimeters taller and twenty years older than she was, and built like a brick wall. If she was the one to break eye contact, she was screwed. This was going to be _her_ crime scene.

She smiled when Tsukigawa looked away and hunched forward a bit, as if to make himself smaller on her behalf.

_Not bad_, the lurker said with surprising sincerity.

_Just be on the lookout for any more of those idol things,_ she told it.

There was a short, brisk flash of agreement, and the weight of the lurker's attention lifted from her without warning. Taiyouko wondered if it actually needed her eyes to read its environment, but before she could get a response, she let it know she'd rather not know, thank you.

Introductions complete, the two detectives crossed back over to the actual burn site.

"Other than the fact that the entire place burned completely to the ground, what have you found that's unusual, Tsukigawa-san?"

"Where do I begin?" he asked, wry rather than frustrated. A sweep of his arm indicated a sharp demarcation within the burn pattern. It formed an almost perfect circle. Within the circle, everything had been reduced to ash. No, not just ash. Taiyouko could see what looked like grayish, hardened lava in places where the breeze and human interference had brushed the ash aside. And then, in the very center, the cordoned-off section. It glittered.

"The burn pattern is just the beginning. Let's go take a look at the periphery first. We'll come back to the scene itself in a bit. There's something I want to show you, but it'll make more sense after you see the rest of this."

In a younger man, his manner might have come across as eager and enthusiastic, but Tsukigawa mostly came across as tired but determined. As he changed course and headed out towards the garden, Taiyouko hurried so as not to fall behind. The ground was iron-hard and deeply crazed, and the grass was crisp beneath her feet. "It feels like this got about a year's worth of hard sun in what, an hour?"

"Thirty-seven minutes from the first alarm to the structure being declared a total loss," Tsukigawa said. It appeared he was going to stick to facts for now and hold the theorizing until later--probably until he got to whatever it was he'd saved for the final course. "It took another hour before anyone could get close enough to the fire to start containment procedures. Despite that, other than three residents, a visitor and two nursing aides, they got everyone else out safely."

That would include people who probably couldn't get very far under their own steam, and some who might have been frightened and confused enough to give their would-be rescuers a hard time. Taiyouko imagined the situation had been only one step away from turning into the sort of nightmare that would be on the national news for weeks.

According to Tsukigawa, it nearly had. One of the aides had been trying to get a patient with severe dementia out of the building. At least, that's what the last person who had seen both aide and patient reported. Another patient died of acute respiratory distress shortly after being evacuated, largely thanks to her oxygen tank being left behind as a safety measure. Four other patients were currently in the ICU with little hope of pulling through.

As they crossed the fire-baked grounds Tsukigawa went on with his description, and Taiyouko continued to build a picture of what had happened. She concentrated on that 'what' for the moment, putting the 'how' off for later. She only interrupted the arson detective when she wasn't sure she was picturing things correctly.

According to one of the survivors, a smoke detector went off shortly before eight last night (he remembered the time only because his favorite television program was due to start). Instead of starting the proscribed evacuation procedures, someone had been sent to see if the wiring had shorted out again. At most, maybe two minutes had been lost between the alarm going off and someone yelling that there was smoke coming from hallway two. The designated fire warden reported that the evacuation took only twelve minutes. Despite breaking protocol with the actual alarm, the facility was rigorous about its fire and earthquake drills. Thanks to a combination of circumstance and professionalism, the managed to get everybody out in near-miraculous time.

Everybody minus six, that was. Of the three victims Tsukigawa hadn't already mentioned, there was no way of knowing exactly what happened. All the warden could say was that one patient was unaccounted for as was one of the aides who was responsible for clearing Hallway Two. Caught in the fire, no doubt. As for victim number six, she wasn't on the fire warden's list. They only knew about her because the nurse on reception duty said they had a visitor sign in shortly before eight.

"I'll want to talk to the receptionist," Taiyouko said. She'd need a name and description of Victim Six. It was more than possible that Victim Six wasn't a victim at all. Unaccounted for and dead were two very different things. To her surprise, Tsukigawa didn't push back. He nodded in agreement and that was that. "Anything else you can tell me about how the fire spread?"

"We had two other eyewitnesses, both from Hallway Two. One is a resident of the home--dementia. Luckily for him, his daughter was visiting, and she was able-bodied enough to get him clear once the alarm started. If they'd waited for help, they'd be dead."

The fire had gone from smoke to white-hot blaze in an instant with no warning. According to the daughter (now in the burn ward with only a seventy percent chance of survival), they'd just made it outside when they were hit with a wave of blistering heat.

"What's strange is that there was no flash of light and no shockwave--and no flying debris. They were badly burned, but they weren't knocked off their feet--and the man is in his late eighties." Even though Tsukigawa had to be in his sixties, he made eighty sound impossibly old. "Hard to believe, really."

After that initial burst of heat, the temperatures had continued to rise and rise, practically vaporizing the building within a matter of seconds. "We did check for radiation, of course," Tsukigawa said before Taiyouko could ask.

"Of course." Taiyouko had already figured as much given that they were walking through the crime scene without any protective garb. She did see someone off to the side in what looked like a Level B hazmat suit, but the woman's gloves and hood were off and she was chugging from a water bottle.

"There were fewer secondary fires than expected. Most of the debris was simply vaporized by the heat before it could blow off and start other fires. And the evacuees retreated--as procedure dictated--to the far edge of the parking lot." Here, Tsukigawa turned and pointed behind them. Other than the very edge of the lot, the parking area was intact and untouched. The trees on the far side had no damage. "If the temperatures were as high as we think they were at the point of origin, it should have been close to unbearably hot. But other than the people who got burned getting out, no one reported any discomfort. It was truly strange."

"So you're saying there's nothing you know of that would cause a burn that was so contained?"

He shook his head. "Only if there was advance preparation--say a controlled burn on a movie set. But with this level of heat? And that sharp a demarcation between temperature zones? I can't think of any rational explanation for that." Tsukigawa paused in a manner that suggested he was waiting for a response, but Taiyouko did not oblige him. Instead, they continued on towards the garden. Taiyouko thought she recognized a bench. At least, the angle at which it was sticking out of the ground was remarkably familiar. "In addition, the only sign of disturbance was this."

'This' was a swath torn up ground, piles of mud and rubble, and uprooted statuary.

"Any idea who's responsible?" Taiyouko, of course, knew exactly _what_ was responsible, but she knew how to keep her voice level and not betray that she knew something a perp didn't know she knew.

At the same time, she gave the lurker swift instructions to see if it noticed any footprints (ladies' size twenty-two, men's size clodhopper). Thank goodness, she thought, for the usual contamination of arson scenes. Thank goodness, also, that she hadn't traded in her trusty revolver for the automatic she could have taken when she started working organized crime cases. There wasn't nearly enough heat damage out here to eliminate ejected shell casings.

"All we know is that it happened before the fire. There was a call at twelve-thirty reporting a disturbance, but the noise stopped while the caller was still on the line."

The timing sounded about right for her and Wright's presence. Still, she said nothing.

"Another call went out shortly after at thirteen hundred reporting extensive damage to the garden. They'd taken some residents out for some fresh air shortly before lunch and nothing was wrong. Lunch is at noon, so whatever happened, happened in less than an hour."

Taiyouko raised an eyebrow at a stone lantern that now lay in pieces a good ten meters from its starting place. "Industrious vandals. You'd need quite a crew for this kind of damage. Any sign it was connected to the fire?"

Tsukigawa was being awfully free with his information. He also kept looking at her with mild expectation from time to time, as if waiting for her to pick up her cue and break into his near-monologue with her own commentary. It was a subtle press for whatever information she had, and Taiyouko had a feeling things would become less subtle before too long.

Still, Tsukigawa didn't push her question right back at her. "Industrious and unusually strong." Again, he looked at her as if daring her to comment. "It's just as unusual as the fire itself, in my opinion, but I'm reluctant to draw any connections unless I have more than just coincidence."

There was much more than coincidence, Taiyouko thought, but she was at a loss how to explain it without being hauled off for psychiatric evaluation. Well, unless the mud-things came back. If they did, she had a pair of fully loaded moonclips in her bag in case she needed to reload in a hurry. The revolver itself was snug in its shoulder holster. Things could get ugly, fast, but at least she wouldn't have to worry about Tsukigawa thinking she was nuts.

"So, have you come up with any theories about what caused this blaze? Or why?" she asked.

They passed the remains of one of the mud men. A crime scene tech was picking through the mud and putting various oddments in baggies for later analysis. As they passed by, he held up a shard of glass in a pair of tweezers. Taiyouko heard him hiss in surprise at something, but with the very next step she heard him mutter something about a trick of the light.

The lurker suggested they see what the tech was doing, but both she and it were distracted by a sharp whistle, and a cry of _Shiro! Come!_.

A black dog--overfed Labrador from the look of it--barrelled past them, heading straight for a safety-vested firefighter. The dog dropped to a polite sit in front of him. He reached down, and after petting the dog, held her head still as he yelled to someone on the other side of the garden to go ahead and hide the bait.

"Search and rescue? Or cadaver finder?" Neither seemed likely, given the extent of the destruction.

"Shiro's trained to find where accelerants were planted. Location can tell us a hell of a lot about who may have had the opportunity and means to set a fire."

"Shiro, huh? Nice name for a black dog."

To his credit, Tsukigawa laughed softly. It sounded genuine enough.

"That dog has more pride in her job than most people I know," said Tsukigawa. He nodded towards the man who was in charge of the 'bait,' namely a wad of dripping wet cotton that he shoved deep into a hole in the ground.

Taiyouko flinched as a flash of memory replayed the moment when an iron bench had plowed into the ground, creating that hole. If things had gone differently, Tsukigawa's crew might have been scraping bits of _her_ out of there.

Fortunately, she was distracted from that cheerful line of thought by the jingle of Shiro's collar. The dog followed a line of scent right to the cotton and barked sharply when she got to the hole. The bait-placer rewarded her with disgustingly lavish praise. Taiyouko turned to Tsukigawa, one eyebrow raised rather pointedly.

"If she doesn't find something at a scene, she gets depressed," Tsukigawa admitted. "Funny, how even animals can feel that frustration."

Taiyouko ignored the second part of what he said. It felt like another one of his not-quite-questions. "So in other words, today was a big old goose egg for her. Have you ever found accelerant at a scene when Shiro couldn't?"

Tsukigawa actually thought it over for a moment rather than responding in knee-jerk defense of the dog, thereby going up several points in Taiyouko's estimation.

"Only twice," he finally admitted. "She's trained to identify thirteen different accelerants. The times she's failed is when the arsonist used something out of the ordinary, but when we're dealing with the usuals--gasoline, kerosene, lighter fluid, paint thinner, things like that--she nails it every time. Most of the time, when she doesn't find anything, it's an accidental fire."

He looked at the white and blasted patch of ground at the point of origin. "Getting back to your question about what I think started this, I'm getting pressure to write this off as an electrical fire caused by faulty wiring or as some resident smoking in bed, but I've never seen a fire get that hot without some sort of chemical assistance." He shook his head and sighed roughly. "The last time I saw burn patterns like this was after the refinery fire at Niigata."

He probably wasn't aware of reaching over and rubbing his right thumb over the shiny pink scars on his left hand. Taiyouko would have bet cash money that she was not the only one who was thinking about close calls that day.

"Okay, so you obviously didn't need me to figure out that this isn't just a case of some old duffer forgetting a cigarette and torching the mattress. Why'd you drag me out here on my day off? Need someone to help push back against the people who are pushing you?"

She could tell he was pissed, but she didn't think he was pissed at her. "The receptionist told me that you had called here the other day asking about one of the residents. Renko something, I think it was."

Tsukigawa didn't wait for confirmation. Instead, he made a sharp left and crooked his finger, signaling her to follow him over to one of the unmarked cars. He leaned in through the open window and pulled out a large roll of paper. He unfurled it across the hood of the car, revealing a detailed floor plan.

"I had the director of the home bring me the blueprints and a list of who was in which room. Based on the eyewitness reports and what little we could decipher of the burn pattern, we think we know where the fire started." He smiled crookedly and tapped a particular square on the plan. "Guess whose room was the point of origin?"

Taiyouko sighed. "My guy, right?" She pulled her hands down her face, trying to wipe away the frustration. "Doesn't that just figure. Renko was my best--maybe my only--lead on a case that went cold fourteen years ago."

The soft, rhythmic rustle of blueprints being rolled up stopped suddenly. "You were the primary when it went cold?"

"Yeah." It was only one syllable, but it told the whole damned story.

Tsukigawa finished rolling up the blueprints. Instead of putting them back in his car, he handed them to Taiyouko. "I'm supposed to retire at the end of the month."

He didn't have to say anything else. This was probably his last case. Something big had happened, but it could take months or even years to solve, but instead of being given that time, he'd been handed an order to take a nice big lid and cover up the stink. He was to play nice, and then he could go retire to the countryside and try to drink away the 'what ifs'.

Taiyouko, on the other hand, had been given the order to dig. She took the blueprints.

Tsukigawa remained stock-still while she put the blueprints in the back of her car. He stood straight, but his head was bowed, and he seemed intent on the tips of his shoes. As she walked back over to him, Taiyouko could see the tightened mouth, and the tensing of muscle as his jaw clenched and released over and over again.

"What?"

He startled back to attention, but seemed amused--or at least not offended--by her bluntness.

"There's one more thing I need to show you." Something about the way he said it made Taiyouko feel as if she was being set up. The lurker's focus shifted back to Tsukigawa, orders to look out for mud-men be damned.

"Okay..."

He headed back towards the center of the crime scene, Taiyouko followed, hurrying to catch up.

When she drew even with him, Tsukigawa began to speak, words being chosen with the sort of care a bomb-squad tech would use when disconnecting a fuse mechanism. "You may already be aware of this, but police in other cities joke about what you have to deal with in Tokyo."

"Giant radioactive lizards on Sunday, magical girls in short skirts on Tuesday, and the apocalypse rolling through town the first Friday of every month? Yeah, I've heard the jokes."

He chuckled and waved aside the officer who'd been standing guard by the taped-off area of the burn zone.

"You forgot to mention the alien invasions," he said.

"That's on Wednesdays," Taiyouko deadpanned. "Overrated, if you ask me. So, yes, we do get more than our share of weird shit. Or at least, we have more than our share of people who come up with _creative_ explanations for things. What's your point?"

Tsukigawa said nothing. He simply held the tape up so she could duck under. She did, and it was like hitting a wall of heat.

"I see." She looked around, moving constantly because the heat bled through the soles of her shoes so quickly she might as well have been going barefoot. "You're _sure_ there's no radiation?"

Tsukigawa hunkered down so he could get under the tape. "That's exactly what I asked, right before you got here. This is where Renko's room was, by the way."

She'd figured as much. "You've never seen anything like this, you said?"

"I've seen heat like this, but never anything so contained. Or so intense."

The area was not only completely wiped flat of any features, it was slightly hollowed out, as if someone had come in and neatly scooped out the ground. The indentation was perfectly smooth and perfectly round, dipping down to a depth of maybe a half-meter in the center. Other than glassy gray and fine ash, all she could see were a few footprints in the ash and a bright orange evidence tag. A plastic container sat upended next to the tag, one side already caved in from the heat.

"The bucket-thingy was put there later, yes?"

"Right. What's under there isn't something we want too many people to see." He nodded towards the guard who had re-stationed himself by the cordon.

Taiyouko walked over to the evidence tag, wondering what the hell they found that could possibly survived such heat.

"You asked me what my point was," Tsukigawa said. Taiyouko had crouched down and was reaching for the bucket, but stopped as soon as he spoke. "I suppose my point was that I'm wondering how much you believe in that sort of weirdness. Some people think it's a joke, or a hoax..."

"Let's just say I've had a few moments." Taiyouko spoke warily, not looking over to the inspector. The lurker coiled and tensed. "I know there are things out there I can't explain."

_Including this thing riding in my head right now._

"Are you familiar with those girls who call themselves the 'Sailor Senshi'?"

Taiyouko stood up slowly. Every inch was a battle. Keeping her mouth shut was a battle. She wasn't sure her motions were her own. She knew that if she opened her mouth, her words would not be her own.

She was scared shitless and she was furious.

The lurker waited, crouching, poised.

"You are, then," he said.

Taiyouko managed a brusque nod. It was almost enough to shake her control. Over and over she yelled at the lurker to stand the hell down, she was in control of the situation, this man wasn't a danger, they needed someone on the ground here in Kamakura to find out about this visitor, this was _her_ case, damn it. _Hers._

The lurker hissed in disgust and sidled off to the rear of her mind.

"They might have something to do with the case I'm working on," she admitted. The lurker's departure had left her knees wobbly, and when she crouched down to pick up the bucket, it was almost a collapse. "You think they're involved here?"

She picked up the bucket and almost dropped it again. The smell it released nearly knocked her back millions of years into the past.

"Not the Senshi as such," he said, "although the strange burn patterns--inexplicable containment, residual heat that doesn't seem to transfer as it should--remind me of what a couple of fire inspectors have told me about Sailor Mars. All secondhand, of course," he added wryly.

Giant trees, reaching so high into the sky they seemed to curve overhead. An orchard, trees heavy with apples that gleamed like antique gold. A narrow moat circling a small island, four streams pouring down from the island pavilion to feed the moat. A rustle of silk and a friend leaning over to whisper something in her ear. A wave of scent-borne memories so strong it nearly erased the present. But then the lurker took the memories, folding and bundling them up like a cloth, and the world returned to what it was.

She was at an arson site, sitting at the point of origin of a fire so hot that it had burned down to and vaporized bedrock, and she was looking at something that should not exist. Not here, and not now.

"It was covered by ash and debris." Tsukigawa sounded as if he still didn't believe it. "I'm still tempted to suggest that someone placed it there after the fact, but the fire was still going strong when we got here. We checked for any signs of footprints, but..." He shrugged. "You know how it goes."

Taiyouko gathered her wits and reached into her pocket to grab her latex gloves.

"Anyhow, this goes far and beyond what I've heard about Sailor Mars, but what you see there suggests a 'friend' of theirs might be involved. Not that I've heard much friendly about him."

She reached out and picked up the rose. It was perfect. Unblemished.

_Endymion_.

"Tuxedo Kamen."

* * *

Author's notes: My most abject apologies for such a long absence. A combination of real life distractions (job loss, cross-country move, and subsequent job hunt), having my notes packed away for a long time (see: cross-country move), being distracted by other shiny fandoms, and losing my sense of the characters' voices for a while all contributed to a long absence. I won't say that a long hiatus won't happen again, but I _do_ plan on finishing this story. If, for some reason, I have to abandon this, I will be sure to post a synopsis of what happens from that point onwards. That said, it feels wonderful to be working on this story again.

Other notes: Moonclips have nothing to do with how Usagi pins her hair up. They're little gadgets that can be used if you need to reload a revolver in a hurry.

In case you were wondering, yes, that was a small "Buffy" shoutout in the Jason and Taiyouko section.

Many thanks to Aishuu and Megan for hand-holding, beta-reading, and general encouragement.


End file.
